Furnunculus and Stupefy don't Mix
by Marietta1995
Summary: I lifted my gaze to meet his eyes. They were a brilliant green like always, but so sad. A shiver passed though my body as he grabbed my hand, pulling me into his warm embrace. I clung to him, desperate to rid myself of the grim finality weighing down my heart. (HIATUS/UNDERCONSTRUCTION)
1. Curses that Burn

**Hello there, please take into account that I don't own the Harry Potter universe. There's no need to sue anyone, thank you very much.**

* * *

Professor Jennings was late. Again.

I sat at my empty desk, quickly skimming over my fifth year potions book. I played with the frayed edges of the cover as my eyes scanned its content. My mind busied itself with the instructions of a fascinating brew, the Polyjuice Potion. It helped fend off the madness that surrounded me.

Students were lazed around the dungeon, passing stories back and forth of their latest endeavor during summer break. There were stories of rabid gnomes, potions gone wrong, and even a runaway broom. Everyone was telling their story.

Everyone that is, except for me.

No one minded, or cared, as usual. I had never been much of a talker. Social situations didn't come to natural to me. When I first arrived in Hogwarts, I had the worst stutter and could barely stand still if someone's gaze met mine for too long. People did try to assimilate me into the house, in the end. But the shyness seemed to envelope me. It wasn't something that would break in a weak, like they expected.

If I was sorted into Hufflepuff, they probably would have stuck by me day by day, waiting patiently for me to open up. But in Gryffindor, you had to be brave. You had to put the first foot forward and show that you're brave enough to be in the house.

So, by the time I grew comfortable enough to talk to everyone, no one cared. No one noticed the soft voice that tried to get their attention in their second year. No one noticed when the voice slowly became louder and louder. No one noticed when the voice stopped trying to speak to them altogether. I had tried four years to get them to acknowledge me in some way, but nothing would work.

To the rest of the Gryffindors, I was still the unbearably shy first year that constantly tripped over her stutter.

So, when I heard a faint scrape of the stool on the ground next to me, I nearly fell over in shock.

No one had sat next to me since my first year.

I tilted my head to the side, finding a pair of brown eyes staring intently at me. The shy girl in me pleaded with me to look away, but I refused to back down. I wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, even if the others didn't recognize it.

I glanced at the curious boy who sat beside me. He had a light pallor of skin, although not as light as mine, with messy ink black hair. His almond-shaped eyes scrutinized me carefully. He looked familiar…

With a jolt, I realized who had chosen to sit next to me.

It was Aiden Potter.

I mentally face-palmed myself. How could I not recognize him right away? He was the grandson of Harry-freaking-Potter!

I began to wallow in self-pity for my stupidity, but then noticed something in Aiden's expression. It was as if… he were waiting for something.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, voice a bit rusty from disuse.

Aiden's eyes widened.

"You do talk…" he whispered, eyes wide with wonder.

I tried my best not to let a frown twist on my face. Was that all he had to say?

"Yes." I said carefully. "I've been able to talk since I was young."

Aiden laughed.

"Yeah, I'd imagine so…" he sighed, slightly embarrassed at his previous statement.

I smiled a bit, suddenly uncomfortable. No one had ever talked to me for this long. But, Aiden seemed to not notice.

"So…" he started, stretching out the 'o' sound, "How was your summer."

I froze. Should I tell him?

"It was okay." I said, grimacing a little. He caught this.

"Are you sure?" Aiden questioned. "The expression on your face says otherwise."

I sighed at the expectant look on his face.

"It was lonely." I muttered, looking at my hands on the desk.

Glancing back up, I saw that Aiden seemed confused.

"What about your family?" He asked quietly. I gave him a small smile, slipping my hand into my robe pocket and fingering the Polaroid photo I always kept in there.

Mrs. Stokes had given me it on my tenth birthday, explaining that the couple in it was my mother and father. It was a happy little photo. My mother appeared to be only seventeen; the same as my father by the looks of it. But it was her appearance that fascinated me. We could have been twins if we were the same age. All our features were similar; from the same cheeky smile to the same blond hair, although hers was slightly longer. My father on the other hand wasn't looking at the camera, but at the baby he held in his arms, me. All I knew was that he had short, messy, inky hair. My mother sat next to him and grinned widely at the camera as if she were hiding a secret.

I retracted my hand from my pocket, feeling warmth spread through my core at the thought of the picture. But, I wished that I could see them, that they were still here. Mrs. Stokes had told me that they died in a car crash a month after my birth and that they were an odd couple to say the least.

I pushed away the depressing thoughts, focusing on the curious Aiden.

"I don't have a family." I said softly, putting on a neutral facade.

An odd look flashed over Aiden's face.

"Sorry!" He exclaimed, looking horrified. "I didn't know!"

I smiled at his apparent distress.

"No, don't worry." I said, trying to placate his panic. "You had no reason to know."

He managed to return to normal after a few seconds.

"Heh… yeah." he muttered, smiling again. "So do you live at an orphanage or something?"

My stomach sank at the thought of Mrs. Stokes and the orphanage, but the innocent look on Aiden's face softened the fear.

I opened my mouth to answer 'yes', but a snide voice interrupted me.

"Talking to parent-less scum, Potter?" a thick boy with dark curly hair sneered.

Aiden glanced over in distaste.

"Shove off, Goyle." he dismissed.

Callum Goyle narrowed his eyes at the black-haired boy.

"No, I don't think I will to be honest." He said, leaning closer to me. "I've never seen this one talk before."

I cringed away from his rancid breath.

"I said shove off." Aiden spat.

Goyle cocked a brow.

"Why don't you make me." he smirked, flicking his wand.

A sudden force sent me flying off my stool, tossing me to the stone ground with a large crack. I blinked repeatedly as black spots danced across my eyes for a moment.

Aiden leaped from his seat, growling furiously at the Slytherin.

The boys sent spells at each other, filling the dungeons with flashes of multi-colored lights. Large crashes resounded across the room as empty vials exploded from misfired shots. I lurched to my feet, noting the students scurrying across the classroom.

Someone was going to get hurt at this rate.

So, with distinct steps, I placed myself between the feuding boys.

"Get out of the way!" Goyle snarled, trying to push me away as Aiden struggled to aim around me.

"No!" I said loudly, but firmly. Students gaped at my sudden outburst. "That's enough. Someone's going to get hurt."

Goyle was livid.

"Sure." he muttered darkly, before aiming his wand at my chest. "Someone's going to get hurt alright."

Aiden's eyes flashed with recognition and fear, jumping into action a moment before Goyle muttered his curse.

Unfortunately, Aiden's aim was off.

"Furnunculus!"

"Stupefy!"

Both spells landed above my heart, ripping me away from my position on the ground. I tumbled back over the table behind me, taking different potions ingredients with me.

I landed on the ground spitting essence of murtlap. Ingredients covered me from head to toe.

Goyle burst into laughter.

"Barrows!" Aiden cried, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean t…"

The Gryffindor trailed off as he stared at me with horrified eyes. Even Goyle stopped chortling long enough to gape at me.

"What…" he spluttered, pointing his finger in my direction.

I looked down where I sat. I was covered in different ingredients, but nothing gape-worthy. A sudden flash of light caught my attention.

The spot above my heart, where the two boy's spells had hit, emitted a shining blue light. I gazed down at it wonderingly.

"This…" I began to say, but found myself interrupted as it slowly began to cover my skin, burning wherever it touched.

For a moment, I wondered if this was what a crutiatus curse felt like.

A scream tore through my throat as I fell back to the ground with a sickening snap. The burning wouldn't stop… wouldn't…

Aiden dropped to my side, desperately making a grab for my head as I almost cracked it against the stone floor. He held my head securely in his lap, looking around with wild eyes.

"Someone, do something!" he yelled as I began to convulse.

Why wouldn't the burning stop?

Everyone stood still, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, immobilized by shock.

"Burning…" I whimpered. "Why am I burning?"

Aiden gently shushed me.

"It's okay, we'll stop the burning." He whispered into my ear. "You'll be fine."

The light expanded, covering the right half of my body. My guttural cries were endless, filling the dungeons with the sounds of my pain.

"Get Lucas!" I screamed as the light began to spread faster and faster. Aiden gently placed my head on the ground, jumping up.

The burning wouldn't abate.

Why wouldn't it stop?

"Aiden, please…" I whispered as the light enveloped me, covering my body fully.

All I could see was that light blue light, and then… nothing.

The space around me plunged into darkness as I felt my body falling.

I fell and fell and fell.

I didn't know how long I was falling. I felt detached in a way as utter silence surrounded me.

It was suffocating me.

…

A dull light hit my eyes as I felt my body connect with something hard. I hit the mass before tumbling off and hitting the stone ground with a large crack.

I clutched my head, still shaking from the blue light. The pain I felt now was nothing to the torture I experienced minutes ago.

I opened my eyes, breathing out a breathy sigh of relief.

I needed to know what happened.

My eyes scanned the room and with a slight shock, I realized I was back in the dungeon, except it looked… different.

It still held a dark and melancholy appearance, but the walls seemed to be less grimy, if that was possible. I noted that the object I managed to fall on was a large stack of pewter cauldrons, which now littered the floor around me.

"Weird," I mumbled distantly, "Professor Jennings never has any cauldrons in the classroom."

I noticed that my vision began to blur. I attempted to raise my arm to wipe at my eyes, but the limb remained immobile.

Was I dying?

The door next to me burst open at the thought.

What was going on…

The sound of dull thuds slapping against the ground seemed to be wavering now.

Everything was becoming colder.

The world slowly slipped away from me at the point, leaving me only with the image of an infuriated man with greasy, black hair glaring down at me with cold, relentless eyes.

'Did we get a new professor?' I thought, moments before I blacked out completely.

….

I sluggishly cracked open my eyes, barely aware of the pounding in my skull.

The first thing I noticed was that it was actually light streaming through the arched windows, opposite to the murky gloom of the dungeon. I pushed myself into a sitting position, analyzing the area around me.

It was the Hospital Wing.

I sighed contentedly, wondering if the disgruntled man from earlier had brought me to Madame Graham. I always like her.

Not wanting to make a big deal, I slumped back onto my pillow, wanting to sleep the aches away. It had escaped my notice to begin with, but my body was sore. For a moment, I ran over what had happened, trying to decipher what the blue light had been.

But, a slight cough distracted me from my thoughts.

Turning my head lazily to the side, I instantly shot up the moment I noticed that there was man sitting in a chair next to my cot.

My heart nearly stopped.

It was an old wizard with the longest, whitest beard I'd ever seen. Something clicked in my brain, but I couldn't think of where I'd seen the man before.

His old weathered face broke into a smile as his blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon glasses.

"Well," he chuckled, obviously shocked by my reaction to him being there, "it seems as if you had quite a fall."

Not trusting myself to speak, I managed a nod. He took it with a knowing smile.

Was he another new professor?

"Sorry to give you a scare. Miss…"

I took a deep breath.

"Barrows, Gwendolyn Barrows." I muttered, not noticing the confused look pass his face.

"Well, Miss Barrows, would you like to tell me what happened to you?"

I stared at him momentarily, praying that he wouldn't be too hard on the boys.

"Sure." I sighed, keeping my eyes on the empty cot in front of me as I began to retell my story.

"I was talking to Aiden Potter while waiting for Professor Jennings to arrive. He's always late to his Potions class you see…" I began, suddenly eager to finish the story. "While Aiden and I were talking about our summer vacation, Callum Goyle came up and started provoking Potter. I was thrown off my chair with a flick of his wand.

"They began dueling and I was afraid that they might hurt someone. So I stepped between them and needless to say, I accidentally got hit by their curses at the exact same time, right here." I pointed at the spot above my heart, half expecting to find it glowing blue.

"There was a blue light." I said quickly, not wanting to relive the pain I had been in. "It kind of surrounded me and then, I was falling. I ended up landing back into the classroom but I fell into a pile of cauldrons sitting around there. Except… I'm pretty sure they weren't there before. And that's it. I fainted right after that."

I lifted my head to see a perturbed expression on the old man's face.

"You mentioned Mr. Potter and Mr. Goyle." He began, looking as if he was calculating something in his mind. "Did you mean _Harry_ Potter and _Gregory_ Goyle?"

I stared at the elder wizard before letting out a small giggle.

Shock flickered in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, sir." I said softly, containing the girlish squeaks. "But I have no idea who Gregory Goyle is. Also, I doubt that Harry Potter would be in a 5th year potions classroom, talking to me. Now talking to Aiden would be understandable seeing as he's his grandson and all."

The man's face paled.

"Did you say grandson?" He enquired.

I gawked at him, thoroughly confused.

I thought everyone knew the Potter family.

"Yes, sir. That's what he is." I told him quietly.

The old man's calculating face returned as he silently worked something out in his head. We sat there for minutes as he continued to think. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spoke again.

"I know this might sound odd, but what is the month, day, and year?"

I gave him a strange look, but stared ahead again, trying to think.

"How many days have I been asleep?" I questioned.

"Two." he said simply.

"Alright." I said, thinking it over. "Then today would be September 4, 2053."

The man looked at me grimly.

"Miss Barrows, I think that there's more to your accident than a simple fall."

"What do you mean, sir?" I asked confused.

I told him everything that happened, excluding the light's pain. That should have been enough, right?

I glanced down, afraid to find myself burnt to a crisp or horribly maimed. But, when I looked over myself, I found that nothing had changed. So, what was it then?

I eyed the old man questioningly.

He heaved a great sigh.

"Miss Barrows." He began carefully. "That's not todays date."

I let out the breath I'd been unconsciously holding and began to laugh.

"I'm sorry." I said shakily, trying not to laugh in relief of not being told that I had a third eye or something. "What is the date then, sir?"

A somber look painted his face.

"Miss Barrows," he began grimly, "I'm not sure what happened to you, but there might not be a way to help you right now."

"Then what does the date have to do with this?" I questioned, nerves building in my stomach. "I only fell."

I looked at the wizard expectantly, causing him to sigh again. He suddenly seemed much older as he muttered out what the problem was.

"Miss Barrows, you seemed to travel in time." He stated heavily.

My mouth popped open.

"W-w-wait! W-what?" I stuttered, looking at the man in shock.

Pity flashed across his face before he uttered a sentence, a sentence that would change my life forever.

"Please forgive me, but today's date is September 1st, 1995."

I stared at him blankly.

"Welcome to the past, Miss Barrows."

* * *

**Alright, here's the deal. If you think this is a bit familiar... then hey! Thanks for bothering to remember my other story by the same name. This is a rewrite of a fanfic I started a little less than a year ago. But, it was ill planned, so, I started to start from the beginning. I'm far better than I was as a writer months and months ago, so this should hopefully work out all right. **

**Updating wise, it'll be on a rotation schedule with my two other Doctor Who stories "The Girl Who Keeps on Running" and "Hello, Raggedy Man." This helps with the writers block I tend to get every month or so. **

**Anyways, tell me what you think. Review it, follow it, favorite it if you want to! I don't entirely care, it's all up to you guys. **

**Next Time:**

I pushed open the wooden door, looking forward at the the Headmaster, barely noticing the bushy-haired student beside him. She stood up perfectly straight eyeing me with a mixture of reluctance and curiosity.

A weary smile played on my lips at the sight.

"Ah," Dumbledore beamed, waving me forward. "Miss Barrows, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

I shuffled forward as he nodded to the girl standing to his left.

"Hello." She spoke softly, watching me carefully with intelligent eyes. "My name is Hermione Granger."


	2. The Bushy-Haired Accomplice

**Nope, I really don't own the Harry Potter universe. I think that much is obvious...**

* * *

"Welcome to the past, Miss Barrows."

I gaped at the old man, resembling a fish.

"That's not funny." I muttered, eying the elderly wizard in disbelief. "It really isn't."

The old man sighed and gave me another eye-crinkling smile. Something nagged at my memories again. I was sure I'd seen him before, but where? My eyes scrutinized his face for a moment. Those blue eyes… those half-moon glasses… that long, snowy beard…

I gasped as the memory finally surfaced.

_I sat in the Headmaster's office, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to spill over. Professor Lucas smiled sympathetically as he listened to my childish cries. It was my third year, and the constant isolation at the orphanage and Hogwarts was taking its toll. _

_"Mrs. Stokes, s-s-she th-thinks that-t I-I-I'm some s-sort of freak!" I whispered, hands trying to wipe away the fast-falling tears. "This is the fifth year she's kept me locked up in t-that r-r-room. I can't even remember the others' faces anymore."_

_Professor Lucas gazed at my small, shaking figure with pity. His frail hand passed me a handkerchief. _

_I dabbed the cloth against my face furiously._

_"Remember," the Headmaster wheezed, reminding me of his old age, "our trials make us who we are. Those that you face will not only bring despair, but will help turn you into the great witch you're destined to be, just like everyone else."_

_Professor Lucas smiled the same knowing smile as my mother's in the picture, as if he knew something I didn't._

_My sobs died down._

_I peeked up at him from behind my hands, hope swelling within me as a knock sounded on the door. Lucas slowly stood up to answer the call._

_Could he be telling the truth? _

_Did the Headmaster really believe I'd be great?_

_"He is right, you know."_

_My teary eyes snapped upward to one of the paintings of the previous headmasters. It was a strange wizard with snow white hair, twinkling eyes, and half-moon glasses._

_"H-h-how d-do you know-w that?" I muttered apprehensively. "H-how can I be great if n-no one n-notices m-m-me?"_

_The deceased professor smiled._

_"Trust me, I know."_

_The wizard closed his eyes, feigning sleep._

_Sighing, I dropped my eyes to the nameplate, wondering what past headmaster would bother to place his faith in someone like me. It took me a moment, but I finally deciphered the name._

_It was Albus Dumbledore._

I nearly jumped out of my bed.

"You're _him_!" I exclaimed faintly. "From the portrait; you're Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose in shock.

"You know me?" He questioned, looking intrigued.

I took a shaky breath, trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

"I met your portrait in Headmaster Lucas's office." I muttered, massaging my temples.

What on earth was happening?

Dumbledore nodded in understanding.

"There's no need to tell me anything else. I don't want to know something more than I already should." He began. "But, as you didn't arrive with a time-turner, you'll have to stay here for the time being."

I nodded faintly.

This was real, wasn't it? Any other explanation didn't seem to fit in my mind.

I had actually travelled back in time.

"Now, I can see you're a Gryffindor." He pointed at my dirty robes as I struggled to keep calm. "I see no reason to change your house placement."

I let out a shaky sigh of relief. Knowing my luck, I'd be put in Slytherin.

"But, the problem will come with your background. Can you tell me about your family?" He asked quietly.

I settled back into my cot again, trying to avoid Dumbledore's eyes. I was afraid that I would find more pity in them.

"I don't have a family sir." I muttered, looking firmly at the clenched hands in my lap. "I was orphaned at the George Kelly Orphanage when I was a month old. No one ever told me my parents' name. Although, the matron did give me a picture."

Silently, I patted down my pockets and found the photo with a relieved sigh, immediately handing it to Dumbledore. His eyes glinted with amusement as they roved over the couple holding me as a baby.

"You look just like your mother." He murmured, smiling. "And your father…"

Dumbledore thought for a moment.

"Well, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting them as they have yet to exist." He added. "Or anyone else in this school with the last name of 'Barrows' for that matter."

The small inane hopes building slowly from within me plummeted. It was idiotic to even consider hoping that I would be able to meet some of my long-lost family, not that I'd know what to say to them. You couldn't exactly introduce yourself to a stranger as their future descendant. They'd cart me off to St. Mungo's instantly. Sighing, I turned my attention back to Dumbledore.

"May I just use my actual name and background then?" I asked. "I'll just tell people that I'm a muggleborn since I can't exactly prove otherwise."

Dumbledore happily nodded.

"All we need know is why you're here."

I thought quietly for a moment, struggling to come up with a coherent excuse. Then, it came to me.

"I could be sick." I thought, smothering the nerves that erupted in my stomach. I'd never been the best liar. "For the past six years, I'd caught a pretty bad sickness. So, I couldn't come to Hogwarts until I was cured."

If possible, Dumbledore's smile grew wider.

"Well said, Miss Barrows." he stated thoughtfully. "I'm sure I'll be able to come up with some records for you. I'll vouch for your excuse. I could be a friend of your parents before they died in, let's say… the war."

I stared at the Headmaster confusedly.

"War?" I asked.

Dumbledore's smile faltered, eyes turning grim.

"The war against Voldemort," He stated somberly.

I furrowed my brows, trying to pick at my limited knowledge from Professor Binn's class.

"First or second?" I asked, trying to get a sense of where I was event-wise.

After all, History of Magic had never been my favorite subject.

"First." Dumbledore said tiredly. "But seeing as Voldemort recently was resurrected, I'd say a second war is on the horizon."

I flushed, realizing what I'd said.

"Sorry…" I muttered abashedly.

Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"No need." He assured me. "Just be sure to be careful. You can't let the future be known by anyone."

I nodded solemnly, causing the Headmaster to let out a grand laugh.

"Now, why don't we head to the feast? Everyone should be arriving soon."

I gulped, slipping out of my cot as Dumbledore strode out of the room.

I started to follow until the sight of my robes caught my eyes. They were rancid, still covered in the dried potion ingredients from earlier.

I frowned, searching my pockets for my wand. Pulling out the sleek piece of wood, I aimed it at myself.

"_Scourgify"_

I sighed in relief as the grime was siphoned off my robes.

It was then, as I stood completely ready to exit the Hospital Wing, that I realized what was about to happen.

A new student was about to enter Hogwarts, becoming the center of attention, something curious to observe.

I groaned, hoping that the Gryffindors wouldn't bombard me with question after question. The mere idea of having the entire school staring at the 'new girl' made me want to hurl.

Just like my first year…

With that delightful thought, I slid through the doorway, bracing myself for the onslaught of questions destined to come.

…..

I stared at the madness before me with a nervous groan.

Students poured into the Great Hall, filling staircase after staircase as they crowded the entrance. It looked almost dangerous to even attempt to join in.

So, taking a deep breath and mustering up any of my Gryffindor courage, I dove into the crowd.

Students elbowed me left and right, rushing to enter the hall. I struggled to push my way through, but I only ended up being shoved straight into another student.

"I-I'm so sorry!" I squeaked, backing away from the innocent student.

I looked up in embarrassment, only to feel the blood drain from my face.

The rumble of my surrounding drained away at the sight of the figure before me.

"Aiden?" I whispered faintly. "How did you get here?"

Had it been a trick all along?

However, the boy before me only responded stunned and confused look.

"Aiden…" He said slowly.

With a jolt, I realized that the boy before me wasn't Aiden. They had the same short messy, jet black hair, but Aiden was much shorter and had muddy brown eyes. This boy however, had brilliant green eyes.

I stood there for a moment, mesmerized by the greens that seemed to swirl together behind his glasses. That is, until I remembered what had happened.

Feeling my cheeks burn, I looked down at my feet, saying, "S-sorry. Wrong person." Before turning and pushing myself through the throng of students.

I ducked my head, trying not to let the embarrassment overtake me.

Of course it wasn't Aiden. The idea was laughable.

I was in this alone.

The group of students finally managed to diminish as they found their places at each table.

I let out a breath of relief, navigating my way to sit with the other Gryffindors. Most were happily chatting away about their summer breaks. A strong sense of nostalgia washed through me at the sounds of their stories. It was just like potions class…

I slumped into an empty space of benches, trying to avoid the Gryffindor's curious gazes. Some of the older students finally realized my presence. Resolutely, I fixed my stare to the golden plate in front of me, staring at my dreary, warped reflection.

It was then that Dumbledore called for everyone's attention. He gave instructions strikingly similar to those that Headmaster Lucas provided during his speeches. Sit down, stay silent, and respect the first years as they enter the Great Hall. At least, those were the basics. Dumbledore was far more eloquent than Lucas.

The first years poured through the doors, faces ashen with nerves. They approached the front, eying the sorting hat with discontent. My heart went out to the eleven-year-olds. The Sorting was truly a nerve-wracking event.

A severe-looking professor approached the stool, looking off a list.

In the back of my mind, I noted not to annoy her in the least.

"Alban, Timothy"

A frail-looking boy stepped up to the hat.

"Slytherin"

Groans swept through the Gryffindor table at the introduction of another Slytherin. Glancing to the side, I watched the boy join his new house, noting with a fact that the Slytherins in this time seemed to look even more malicious than those that I grew up with.

The Slytherins had always been a nasty group, but in this time, they looked outright dreadful. I stared at one in particular, seeing him welcome the new boy. But when he caught my staring, he instantly glared, mouthing a string of crude curses.

I frowned, turning my gaze back to plate in front of me.

Yes, they were definitely not pleasant at all.

The professor continued to call off the role.

I continued my staring, finally realizing what a mess I'd gotten into. If I hadn't interfered with Aiden and Callum's duel…

I sighed, feeling tears swim in my eyes.

What was the use moping about it?

I wondered how I'd return to my time period. It was doubtful that the school was in panic over my disappearance. They probably wouldn't spend more than a day mourning my loss. Then it would be back to normal.

They'd forget me within the week.

I glanced around at the students, a feeling of dread filling my heart.

The scene before me was so familiar, so ordinary. But, in the end, it was another place I didn't belong.

It became harder and harder to breathe.

My eyes flickered from side to side, feeling the stares of others increase, each with a look of confusion flickering across their faces.

Breathe, I told myself. Breathe…

My breaths became shallower and shallower by the second.

I needed to get out of here.

I spun towards the front, meeting eyes with Dumbledore who had stood to welcome the newest students to Hogwarts. I hadn't even noticed that the sorting had ended.

Dumbledore immediately spotted my panicked demeanor, the pleading in my eyes. He gave a small nod.

Thanking the heavens that I sat at the end of the table, I slipped from my seat, heading for doors left slightly ajar. I ducked through them, trying to ignore the gazes on my back. Each stare seemed to be physically hurt.

I was all alone in this.

All alone…

And before I knew it, I was running.

I sprinted away from the double doors, hair whipping behind me in waves. I flitted through hall after hall, up staircase after staircase.

I needed to get away.

I needed to find a way back.

The stone walls seemed to fly by, not gathering an ounce of my concern.

And this was how I moved for what seemed like lifetimes.

Eventually, my feet shifted to a new path, a destination clear in my mind. It was where I went, where I always went whenever things became too much.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Climb.

Climb.

Climb.

Run.

Run.

Run.

I burst into the Astronomy tower minutes later, breathing heavily. The tower appeared identical to its future self, excluding random chips and pieces missing here and there.

I took a shaky step forward before collapsing to the ground, taking in greedy breaths of air.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I stared above at the stars twinkling in the night sky. The same stars, the same place, yet so different,

I let out a breathy sob, realizing I'd been in shock before.

What did I do to deserve this?

Every day, I lived my life in solitude and the one day I made contact with the outer world, this happened. Was it my punishment? Was this what I deserved?

None of this was right.

I curled onto my side, pulling out the Polaroid picture of my parents.

"What do I do?" I whispered. "What do I do?"

"That is entirely up to you, Miss Barrows."

I gasped, shuffling to my feet.

Dumbledore stood, smiling serenely at the night time sky.

Only the sounds of the wind whistling through the air could be heard at first.

"We are all faced with problems in our lifetimes." He ultimately stated sagely. "It shapes our very beings."

I sniffled, wiping away the stray tears from my face.

"But why?" I croaked. "Why this?"

Dumbledore stood silent for a moment.

I raised my gaze to the heavens as well.

Stars littered the skies, creating a variety of tiny pin pricks. The velvety sky was calming, clearing away all ounces of panic I held earlier.

Only a melancholic sadness remained.

"Accidents happen." He replied. "It's a great reminder that our actions have great effects on others, no matter how harmless they may seem."

I nodded wordlessly.

"Miss Barrows, I truly will help you to the best of my ability." The infamous Headmaster began. "Right now, as you probably understand, the relationship between the minister and I is strained. He will not give me access until Voldemort reveals himself, which I fear will be soon."

His words became somber at the mention of the notorious Dark Lord.

"Until then, I need you to be strong. You need to act normal. Because it seemed that you arrived at a very critical point in time."

I glanced at the headmaster, frowning.

"What do you mean?"

Dumbledore gave me a strained grin.

"The Ministry has felt the need to interfere with Hogwarts business. They've appointed their Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, to serve under the post of Defense against the Dark Arts."

I stiffened, mind dredging up memories of the witch from my History of Magic class.

She was the one who…

She…

"I don't like her." I stated grimly.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I had a feeling you might recognize her name." He started lightly. "But you must remain unsuspicious. Dolores Umbridge is not someone to trifle with in your situation."

I nodded morosely, deciding to change the subject, getting away from the building dislike within me.

"You'll really get me home?" I asked.

Dumbledore stared me in the eyes, serious as could be.

"I promise."

I sighed, turning my gaze to the pinpricked sky.

"Alright." I said simply, not knowing what else to say.

Dumbledore let out another chuckle.

"The sky is beautiful, but if you will, there is someone I'd like you to meet."

I turned to him curiously.

What did he mean?

But, he was already leaving.

…..

I pushed open the wooden door in front of me, looking at the recently seated Headmaster.

I barely managed to notice the bushy-haired student beside him. She stood up perfectly straight and poised, eying me with a mixture of reluctance and curiosity.

A weary smile played on my lips at the sight.

"Ah," Dumbledore beamed, waving me forward. "There you are. Miss Barrows, there is someone I'd like you to meet. "

I shuffled forward as he nodded to the girl standing to his left.

Who on Earth was she?

"Hello." She spoke softly, watching me carefully with her intelligent eyes. "My name is Hermione Granger."

* * *

**Thanks for reading another chapter. I'm having so much fun working out the plot. There will be fun, danger, and most important of all... young love. :)**

**Next Time:**

My first impression of the deplorable woman was that she looked exactly like a squat toad, a unnervingly sick squat toad. But to tell her that would be rude, no matter how much I wished to.

Dumbledore certainly wouldn't approve. The last thing I needed was for her harping on me and my secret.

So, I plastered on the politest smile I could manage, walking lightly across the room, and stopping in front of her desk.

"Hello." I greeted, watching her head instantly snap up. "My name is Gwendolyn Barrows. I just transferred here."


	3. Trouble with the Toad

**If I did own any part of the Harry Potter franchise, I obviously wouldn't be doing this. Just saying.**

* * *

The corridors were unusually silent as Hermione and I made our way to the Gryffindor Tower. It was far past the end of the feast and students were all holed up in their respective common rooms. Thus, the walk almost seemed haunting despite the familiarity that surged through my mind at the sight of my usual route to the tower. The destruction wrought from the battle of Hogwarts was current knowledge in my time. Parts of the castle were left in ruins, scorched with the different burns from stray hexes and curses. But, everything I'd seen appeared almost identical to the castle in the future. Even the paintings seemed the same.

I couldn't help but silently applaud the witches and wizards who worked so hard to rebuild the castle.

However, as my eyes kept returning to the bushy-haired witch in front of me, all thoughts of the infrastructure flew from my mind. Instead, awe and wonder overtook me.

Hermione Granger was a legend in the future. After all, she was one part of the golden trio. I'd spent the first four years of Hogwarts hearing of her famous intellect worthy of a Ravenclaw and brazen loyalty to her friends. Needless to say, the sight of her walking ahead of me, bushy hair bouncing with each step was unnerving.

I reflected on what Dumbledore had announced only a few minutes ago, something even more unnerving than this witch's presence. Hermione Granger would be my secret-keeper, in a way.

The old wizard had told her of everything; from my surprising origins to my sloppy arrival to this time period. And the whole time, the witch didn't even bat an eye as he explained this to me. As I visibly gawked at the old wizard, she remained silent. There was so much curiosity in her face, yet a cold emotion held her back.

It didn't take long to figure out what that obscure emotion was.

Hermione Granger didn't trust me.

And honestly, who would?

It was a bit disconcerting at first, but eventually it made sense. After all, with Voldemort on the prowl now, I'd find it difficult to trust the first barmy witch to fall into this time period. So, I doubted that she would open up any time soon.

But, that was all the better.

I'd be leaving soon enough, and didn't want to change any unnecessary events into the timeline. No, I was better off in the shadows of the other students like normal. This was not my place.

I didn't belong here.

"Gwendolyn?"

My eyes snapped up from my feet to see Hermione staring at me, eying me strangely. It took me a moment to realize that we were standing outside the common room. The witch was already in the portrait hole, staring at my unmoving body.

A weak smile encompassed my face.

"Sorry…" I murmured, following her into the common room.

I unconsciously let out the breath I'd been holding in at the sight of the warm maroon hues spread throughout the room. Everything was the same, from the roaring fireplace to my favorite squashy chairs. It was almost unnerving in a way.

Hermione caught the look of relief almost instantly. But, as she opened her mouth to undoubtedly ask me a question about one or another, she snapped her mouth shut, resolutely walking up to the stairs.

I followed her closely, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach at her blatant uncertainty of my presence.

Within seconds, we arrived to an unmarked dormitory.

"This is one of the extra dormitories." Hermione informed me. "Professor Dumbledore has instructed me that you'll be staying here for the time being. He thought it'd be best if you were to stay alone."

I nodded, almost expecting this. It would be nice for a space alone; somewhere I could be myself without raising any odd questions.

"I'll be in the fifth year dormitory, if you need any help." Hermione continued, beginning to turn away. "Seeing as we have classes tomorrow morning, it'd be best to get some sleep while we can."

I smiled as she began to enter through a door down the corridor.

Hermione paused.

"Also, don't forget. You have a meeting with Dumbledore tomorrow immediately after breakfast."

"Thank you." I called out softly to the witch, grateful for the reminder.

But she had already gone.

…

The meeting with Dumbledore was merely a formality. The old wizard merely spent most of the time prepping me over what to expect. A majority of this era had yet to be covered in my History of Magic class in the future. The only things I knew about this time period were the whispers I'd hear in the halls, tales of the famous Harry Potter.

Dumbledore took his time to explain this to me.

The ministry was in a state of denial, something we had barely brushed over in my last year during a class discussion. Voldemort had returned and the minister simply refused to acknowledge the fact, something I found greatly frustrating. But the reality that the Dark Lord was alive and kicking smothered that annoyance. For the first time since I arrived in this time period, I felt truly afraid.

Voldemort was a ruthless killer, slaughtering any witch or wizard who dared to defy him. Men, women, and children were left dead on the streets. As I was raised in an orphanage, it was only safe to assume that I was a Muggleborn. There'd be nothing hindering the evil wizard from off-ing me the moment I saw him.

However, Dumbledore was quick to reassure me that no such meeting should ever take place. I'd be safe at Hogwarts as long as he stood within these walls.

In the end, Dumbledore worked to get me caught up with the past history of the school, the occurrences of the Chamber of Secrets and the escaped convict by the name of Sirius Black (who he insisted was innocent). I listened in rapture, almost entranced by the amazing stories he uttered.

Each and every one was amazing.

Unfortunately, the meeting had to draw to a close, and I was released, free to attend the rest of my classes. Incidentally, the only lesson I had missed was my Defense Against the Dark Arts period. But, as the thought of the vile professor entered my mind, I found myself glad for such a reprieve, a gift that wasn't blessed upon the fellow fifth year Gryffindors.

The other teachers were kind, having obviously been briefed on my arrival the night before. Only the potions professor, Severus Snape, seemed to dislike my very presence. But, by the end of the first lesson, I had a hunch that his overall dislike was shared with not only me, but the rest of the Gryffindors as well.

The students, on another hand, seemed to observe my sudden appearance with curiosity. No one had a chance to speak with me, as I tried to evade them with all my might. The idea of befriending anyone terrified me, seeing as I'd be leaving eventually. When I returned, they'd be in their old ages by then, having lived their lives as fully as any witch or wizard could. No one would remember the strange Gwendolyn Barrows who happened to show up to Hogwarts during their fifth year.

The thought made me feel strangely lonely.

But it didn't matter. One day, I'd return back to the future, where I belonged.

…

My first impression of Dolores Jane Umbridge was that she looked exactly like a squat toad, and unnervingly sick toad.

I stood that the front of the classroom, nervously letting out the breath of air I'd been holding from the moment she entered my vision. The sight of her made my skin crawl. I'd heard about her pushings for pureblood supremacy, the way she prosecuted hundreds of Muggleborns due to their lack of magical heritage. She was truly, a monster in her own pink and frilly way.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I know who you are." Umbridge observed, glancing up with a pleasant smile. "I do not believe you were present in this class during the last lesson.

I bit my lip, nodding.

"My name is Gwendolyn Barrows." I managed. "I'm the new transfer student here."

The stout witch's smile faltered.

"Ah," She stated. "I remember. And would you care to explain why you were absent from your last lesson?"

I wordlessly handed her the note Dumbledore had provided me.

Umbridge's beady eyes scoured the paper, narrowing more and more each second.

I glanced behind me, noting that the other Gryffindors were beginning to enter the classroom. Their faces all appeared to be set in stone, growing more and more serious with each step. It was apparent to see that not a single student favored this class or teacher.

"Hem, hem."

I jumped, turning back to face the toad-like witch.

Umbridge watched me carefully with an analytical looks, measuring me up as if I was a threat.

I tried not to shiver.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked a bit timidly, trying not to shy away as always.

The witch's sickeningly sweet smile returned.

"It's nothing." She started. "I'm just curious. How long have you known Dumbledore? He mentioned that he's known you for quite a bit of time."

I bit down on my tongue, desperate to keep my face straight.

I couldn't remember how long he was supposed to have had known me.

"I don't see how it matters." I stated a bit blandly, mentally face-palming.

That wasn't supposed to come out so rude.

Umbridge's eyes narrowed into near slits.

"You may not be aware due to your _situation_, Miss Barrows." She ground out. "But as undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, my questions are to be answered, not brushed off."

"I am indeed aware of my situation, Professor." I shot back instantly, dormant temper flaring. "But as a mere student of Hogwarts, my decision to leave your questions unanswered will not change."

Umbridge took a deep breath.

"You may take a seat in the back, Miss Barrows."

I nodded curtly turning from the toad-like witch before stiffly making my way to the farthest desk in the back, unable to shake the feeling of her sharp eyes following my every step.

I sat in my seat, staring idly in the front. My mind raced over the conversation from a few seconds ago. Never in my life had I ever spoken to a person like that, let alone a professor. It felt exhilarating, but incredibly stupid. I hung my head in my hands, berating myself for being so thick. Of all the people to antagonize, Dolores Jane Umbridge was not the witch to trifle with.

She'd been so intrusive, that the retorts came naturally. I'd clammed up, afraid of answering wrong. Suspicions would arise the moment I answered wrong, leading to an investigation that would reveal that Gwendolyn Barrows doesn't really exist.

I bit my lip, feeling a headache coming on soon.

I just needed to relax.

Umbridge chose that moment to announce the beginning of the lesson, promptly ordering our wands away.

I frowned, wondering how this class was supposed to be taught without wands.

It only took moments to realize that she was only teaching the concepts of Defense of the Dark Arts.

Umbridge droned on and on about various _theories_ of defense. And within seconds, I found my eyelids beginning to droop. The lesson was terribly boring, nothing like what they would teach in the 2050's. Those lessons were thrilling.

This, on the other hand, was plain dismal.

I leaned forward, enjoying the weightless feeling that enveloped me as I slowly fell asleep. It was peaceful, resting…

SLAM.

I shot up, startled to see Umbridge standing in front of me, testily glaring at my sleep-drunk figure.

It took all my strength not to flinch.

"Miss Barrows," She seethed. "There will be no dozing in this classroom."

"That's unfortunate." I mumbled incoherently, blinking repeatedly.

Umbridge's face grew pink, shoving a slip of paper onto my desk. The sudden movement snapped me back into full-consciousness.

"Detention, Five O'clock." She growled before stalking back to the front of the room, plastering another sugary sweet smile onto her face.

I sighed, sinking in my chair a little. Students turned to glance back at me, Hermione being one of them. Her gaze was piercing, softened with worry. I looked away guiltily.

I wanted her to trust me. Getting detentions left and right definitely wouldn't help.

My eyes focused on the boy next to her. With a detached surprise, I realized that he was the student I ran into in the entrance hall, the boy who resembled Aiden.

His bright green eyes were trained on Umbridge before flickering to me. There was a grim pity, like I'd sentenced myself to some horrible fate.

I glanced back to my hands, hiding behind my hair, hanging like a blonde curtain over my face.

It was only detention.

So then why was his gaze so foreboding?

The rest of the class moved at a snail's pace, even though there were few minutes left. Umbridge continued to drone on once more about one theory after another. But, even I could tell that what she was telling us was useless. The moment the toad-witch release us all, I was the first one out the door. I had to get away from her before I messed anything else up.

"Gwendolyn!"

I looked back to see Hermione, standing in the hall, looking at me questioningly.

'What just happened?' Her eyes seemed to ask.

I stood there, wondering what to tell her. But, as I opened my mouth to speak, two boys approached her, the green-eyed boy and a ginger. Both looked at me curiously.

My mouth clamped close.

It didn't matter anyway.

I simply shook my head, turning once more and speeding down the hall.

I'd be gone before anyone knew it anyways.

One detention wouldn't kill me.

* * *

**Sorry for this super-extremely late update. I just moved, so I've been a little insane this past month. But, hopefully I can get on some sort of schedule again with all these updates. Gosh...**

**Anyways, thanks for the support!**

**Next Time:**

"Hem, hem." Umbridge clucked. "You'll be writing lines. To be more precise, you'll be writing 'I will learn respect.'"**  
**

I nodded, picking up the quill with a sigh.

"Is there any ink?" I asked, barely above a whisper.

I stiffened as a sardonic smile spread across the witch's face.

She looked positively barmy.

"No dear." She replied lightly. "You won't need any ink."

Perturbed, I placed the quill on the paper, beginning my punishment.


	4. Detention with Delores

**[insert disclaimer claiming that I own nothing related to Harry Potter here]**

* * *

By the time I reached Umbridge's office that evening, my nerves were on edge. During dinner, my mind ran over each and every memory of what she would accomplish in the future, or near-present in this case. And what came up in those recollections didn't comfort me in the least. It left my dinner cold and uneaten.

I knocked on the door lightly, stepping into the horribly pink room after a falsely-sweet voice told me to enter. My eyes immediately caught sight of the pink-clad witch in front of me. Her face was calm, almost serene.

I mechanically trudged forward.

"Ah, Miss Barrows!" Umbridge spoke with a voice of determined sweetness. "You're early. All the better, why don't you get started?"

I didn't like the look of her smile.

'Gryffindors don't run away.' I thought tersely.

Umbridge cleared her throat.

"You may sit there, Miss Barrows." She stated, indicating the desk to her right.

Silently, I took my seat. A stack of parchment sat in front of me, a quill placed to its left. I aimlessly picked up the sleek, quill as Umbridge cleared her throat once more.

"Hem, hem." The witch clucked. "You'll be writing lines. To be more precise, you'll be writing 'I will learn respect.'"

I nodded lazily, pausing when I realized what was missing.

"Is there any ink?" I asked, voice barely straining above a whisper.

I stiffened as a sardonic smile spread across her face.

She looked positively barmy.

"No dear." Umbridge replied lightly, letting out a small giggle. "You won't need any ink."

Perturbed, I placed the quill on the piece of parchment and began to serve my punishment. And thinking of the green-eyed boy's reaction, I couldn't help but think that he was over-reacting.

Lines hardly seemed like that horrid of a punishment.

It was after the second line that I began to notice the pain in my right hand.

I immediately tried to brush it off. But, as more "I will learn respect"s were written over and over in the scarlet ink on my piece of parchment, the pain slowly began to build.

Once it felt like a thin blade was slicing it open, I looked to the limb resting to my side.

What I saw nearly stopped my heart.

"I will learn respect." was carved into my hand, slowly disappearing as seconds passed.

Only an angry patch of red skin was left behind.

I continued to write my lines for another minute, glancing between the scarlet ink fluidly appearing from the quill and the same phrase that carved itself onto the back of my right hand over and over. Suddenly, it clicked.

"Is that my…" I breathed wordlessly, staring at Umbridge in horror.

Umbridge's sickeningly sweet smile grew larger, nearly encompassing her face.

"This is my blood…" I trailed off, dropping my quill onto the desk in front of me.

Umbridge's eyes followed the quill disapprovingly.

"Pick up the quill and return to your lines, Miss Barrows."

"But this is sick." I protested, standing up. "This hardly can be legal."

"I said sit down." She hissed.

My hand brushed against my wand as the Toad-Woman stood, frowning now.

"You will sit down right this instant. Or you will face expulsion!"

I glared at her openly now, hand closing over my wand.

The doors open with a creak.

I glanced to the side, spotting the green-eyed boy entering the classroom, face grim.

Umbridge's smile immediately made a comeback.

"Ah, Mr. Potter." She almost cooed. "You can resume where we left off last time. And Miss Barrows, _sit down._"

I fell into my seat without a thought, too surprised to resist.

Mr. Potter? Did she mean Harry Potter? I slyly glanced at the boy seated beside me before groaning inwardly.

I was such an idiot.

Of course it was Harry Potter. I'd noticed his resemblance to Aiden my first day here. I could even see the lightning scar etched on his forehead. How had it not clicked?

It was at the moment that I decided time travel made me stupid.

However, before I could think more of this startling revelation, Umbridge's sharp voice pulled me from my reverie.

"Miss Barrows." She snapped. "Pick up your quill and continue from where you left off."

I sighed, picking up the quill once more.

Trying desperately to ignore the fact that one of my generation's heroes was sitting only a foot away from me, I continued with my lines. The pain returned, sharper this time.

I stubbornly bit down on my tongue, refusing to let out the gasps of pain after each stroke.

'Gryffindor.' I chanted in my head. 'I'm a Gryffindor.'

But no matter how silent I kept, the pain became worse and worse.

I hid behind a curtain of my hair, blocking the view of my grimacing face from Umbridge as she watched us, sick smirk playing across her face.

…..

The detention persisted, even after the light faded from the sky. Somewhere in my mind, it barely registered that I'd been slicing my hand open over and over again for hours. My hand throbbed, blood loss leaving a pounding headache in my head.

Numbly, I wished that I had eaten dinner in the end. I was just so tired…

But, I made no move to stop. After an hour, my minds seemed to shut down. I just wrote and wrote, unaware of my surroundings. Slice after slice pierced my skin, engraving the words 'I will learn respect.' over and over. It didn't occur to me to stop. My mind was far too gone.

I would continue until Umbridge decided that it was time to end.

An end that wasn't reached until the sky was pitch-black.

"Miss Barrows, Mr. Potter, you two are done today. I believe it has _sunk in _enough for tonight." She was still smiling. "I'd like the pair of you to return tomorrow though."

Wordlessly, I nodded, quill dropping from my shaking hands.

Harry and I stood, making our way to the exit.

My movement seemed fuzzy as my stomach churned, making each step harder than the next.

Umbridge's snide voice rang out behind me.

"Miss Barrows, I hope you are beginning to understand that my questions are to be answered."

"Not bloody likely." I muttered, detachedly pushing my way through the exit and into the corridor.

Everything began to spin, moving in slow motion. I took another step forward, effectively tripping over my own two feet. I pitched forward, knees and palms slapping sharply against the stone.

A groan slipped through my lips.

"She's evil. She's the worst. She's…" I murmured, unable to come up with a word to describe the horrid toad.

However, my thoughts were dredged from its current course as the scuff of shoes reminded me I wasn't alone.

"Are you alright?" A voice asked.

I raised my head, finding myself staring at the quickly blurring face of Harry Potter. He hovered over me, mouth moving but no words coming out.

"I-I don't understand." I slurred. "What's going on?"

Harry frowned, moving his lips as if he were talking once more.

He looked concerned.

I frowned. Why was the world tipping sideways?

A dull thud sounded in my skull. My gaze was stuck on the floor now. Almost lazily, I rolled my head to the side, seeing Harry's face once more.

"You look funny." I giggled incoherently before everything was dimming.

I tried to grasp at any straw of consciousness. But, it was too late.

My mind fell into darkness.

….

_I was too afraid to move. _

_My thin arms clutched at my trunk, shaking in fear as harried men and women scurried around me, each trying to catch their respective trains. No one gave me a second look. _

_Professor Longbottom had told me that my train would be at Platform 9 ¾. To an eleven year old that was simple enough. But, as I stood between platforms 9 and 10, it quickly became clear that this was not the case._

_I began shake, stomach pitted with anxiety. _

_Had it been a lie?_

_My head swiveled from side to side, desperate to find any sign of the platform. I turned to the nearest security guard, stuttering out my question. But, he merely laughed, brushing it off as a joke._

_The guard left me in the middle of the platform, desperately trying not to cry. _

_However the sound of a weathered voice caught my attention. _

"_Are you alright?" An elderly man asked softly. _

_I glanced up at the stranger, finding myself staring at an elderly couple. The man had gray hair in disarray, face wrinkled from age. But, his eyes were the first thing I noticed. They were a brilliant green, not dull like the others I was used to seeing at the orphanage. They were alive and happy. _

_It was when I caught sight of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead that I truly began to consider what a strange man this was. No one else had stopped to help me. They'd been too concerned with their travel plans. _

_What made him different?_

_The man's gaze flickered to the woman beside him, his wife by the look of it. She smiled at me softly, warming my broken, childish heart. Her snowy hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves, giving her a graceful edge that instantly piqued my curiosity. _

_Most of the elderly women I knew were always cross. But this one looked… happy. _

"_Are you having trouble finding your platform?" She asked lightly. _

_It took me a moment to nod uncertainly. _

_The older man chuckled. _

"_Don't worry." He laughed gently. "I didn't know where the platform was at first either."_

_A hesitant smile slipped onto my face. _

_Without a word, the man grabbed my trunk, which had fallen to the ground. _

"_Is this all?" He asked. _

_I nodded wordlessly as the woman grabbed my hand. _

"_Now, the way to the platform is to walk through that brick wall right over there." She whispered conspiratorially, eying the men and woman walking through the station. "Watch."_

_She guided me to the brick pillar between platforms 9 and 10, nonchalantly placing her hand through the solid form. I couldn't help but gasp as she pulled me through. _

_It was hard to believe my eyes. _

_A large, streaming red train stood tall, surrounded by hoards of people, most wearing strange robes. Signs littered the area, each reading 'Platform 9 ¾'. _

_I gazed in awe, unable to stop quivering in anticipation. _

_This was it. I'd finally have a home. That's what he told me when I'd met him. Hogwarts would always be a home for those that needed in, no matter the time or place. _

_I turned to thank the elderly couple, but found that I was alone. They stood off in the distance, talking to what looked like their family. It was simple to see the clear resemblance between all of them._

_After sending a smile to the elderly woman who had glanced up, giving me a wink, I reached for my trunk that had been placed neatly by my side. _

_I lugged the surprisingly light luggage behind me, dragging it onto the train. Vaguely, the excited chatter around me caught my attention. _

"_Did you see him?"_

"_There he is?"_

"_Did you see the scar?" _

_My gaze followed the others', finding that the crowd was ogling at the elderly man that had just helped me. _

"_Who is it?" _

"_It's Harry Potter, of course."_

…_._

My eyes shot open.

I sat up, panicked, looking from side to side urgently. But, a quick examination calmed my nerves instantly. However, it did nothing to stop a groan from slipping through my lips.

I was in the hospital wing again.

My right hand twitched, causing me to glance at it almost lethargically. I observed it wearily as I reached for the glass of water right next to my cot. The skin was red, with a few white lines here and there. I frowned, trying to decipher what it was.

"I… will…" I read, feeling my stomach drop. "…learn… respect…"

The glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the stone floor.

The events of last night came flying into the forefront of my mind.

Madame Pomfry flew into the room, eyes wide with worry.

Her eyes focused on the shattered glass, face quickly colored with relief.

"Oh, you're awake" She tutted lightly, whisking away the shards of glass with the wave of a wand. "How are you feeling?"

I frowned, noting that the dizziness from earlier was gone.

"What happened?" I asked instead.

How did I even get here?

"Mr. Potter brought you here last night." She stated, raising a brow. "He said that you collapsed. Apparently he had no idea what happened. Do you happen to be anemic?"

I shrugged not knowing what to say. It most likely was because I hadn't eaten before going losing all that blood. I'd heard of muggles who passed out from the same thing when I was in the orphanage.

Madame Pomfry sighed.

"Well, you're free to go." She announced. "Besides dehydration, there wasn't much else wrong with you."

I nodded, asking her the time before slipping out of my cot, grabbing my wand and exiting the room.

I made a quick detour to the Great Hall. The room was filled with chatter as dinner began. I took a seat at the end of the table, away from the rest of the students.

Numbly, I snatched a couple of dinner rolls before exiting the room. I had my second detention in less than a half an hour. And this time, there would be no passing out.

I sighed, thinking back to the dream from earlier.

I'd forgotten about that, meeting Harry for the first time. It was definitely odd, to say the least. I wondered if he remembered me in the least, the weird girl who…

I froze.

The weird girl who passed out right in front of him…

My face flushed instantly from embarrassment.

I instead focused on the classes I missed, wondering how much I had to make up. There was only charms and transfiguration today. It was fairly a simple day after all. A quick few hours of studying would definitely catch me up…

I continued this line of thought for a good time, lasting until I reached Umbridge's office door.

Taking a deep breath, I took a step into the pink and frilly office.

The set-up was identical to yesterday, the only difference being Harry was already sitting in his spot.

I took my seat, instantly beginning on the lines given without giving the toad-like witch another glance. My face was set in pure determination.

And after what felt like a decade later, we were eventually released.

"I believe the message has sunk in enough, Miss Barrows." Umbridge stated sweetly, eying my bloody hand. "If this happens again, the time will be doubled."

I frowned.

"Thank you for your generosity." I muttered sarcastically, earning a smirk from Harry.

We quickly exited after that.

It was strange walking back to the Gryffindor Common room. Just like with Hermione, I had to physically restrain myself from openly ogling at the boy beside me. Just like the witch, I'd spent my first four years of Hogwarts hearing about the magnificent adventures of Harry Potter: how he slayed a basilisk and faced dementor after dementor in an attempt to save a wrongly convicted man, how he succeeded in each the tri-wizard tournament, how he defeated the Dark Lord.

The man was a legend to all of us.

So, needless to say, it was a surprise when he addressed me.

"What happened?"

My head snapped to the Boy-Who-Lived.

"What?" I asked intelligently, gaping like a fish.

"Yesterday." He stated slowly, barely glancing my way. "You fainted."

I flushed once more at memory of telling him that he looked 'funny'.

"Oh," I muttered, ducking my head. "I didn't have dinner that night."

Harry looked confused, as if wondering how that made a difference.

"The loss of blood with that made me collapse." I clarified.

I couldn't help but add. "Madame Pomfry believes I'm anemic."

The ghost of a smile quirked on Harry's lips.

The silence permeated the air around us.

"I don't suppose anyone else knows about the Toad's teaching methods?"

This time, Umbridge's nickname got an actual laugh. It was breathy, almost sad. For a moment, I had to wonder when the last time this boy had laughed.

"No." He stated a bit gruffly. "They think we're doing lines."

I nodded absentmindedly.

We walked in silence for the rest of the path. I didn't dare speak another word. It was so strange talking to the actual Harry Potter, coherently too! In fact, he and Hermione were to only people I'd actually talked to since I started earlier this week…

'Well, go big or go home...' I thought sarcastically.

Upon entrance to the common room, Harry instantly veered off to Hermione and who I assumed had to be Ron Weasley. They all looked so happy… so…

I glanced away, smothering the strange loneliness in my heart while making my way towards the dormitory stairs.

"Gwendolyn?"

I halted, finding Hermione watching me carefully.

"Yes?" I asked, mustering up a smile for show.

"Harry said you collapsed yesterday." She mentioned slowly. "Is everything alright?"

It was easy to understand the real question.

_Is this something Dumbledore should be informed about?_

"Everything is fine." I assured.

Hermione stared at me inquisitively.

"Then what happened?"

Harry's eyes immediately snapped to me, slowly shaking his head.

I bit my lip to hide an oncoming grin. He looked like a little kid hiding something from his mother.

"I have anemia." I told her, trying not to laugh as Harry visibly relaxed. "This happens from time to time."

Hermione nodded as I gave a quick farewell.

It was getting easier and easier to talk to all of them, something that was beginning to frighten me incredibly.

I rushed into my dormitory, flopping onto my four-poster bed, smothering a pillow to my face in an attempt to will the heat building in my cheeks to recede. It was strange being noticed for once. I spent most of my Hogwarts years drifting from class to class like a sort of ghost. Aiden was the first person to acknowledge my existence in a while, sending me to a new a place where I wasn't invisible, a place where people actually noticed what I did.

I supposed it helped that I wasn't a stuttering wreck anymore.

Silently, I couldn't help but sigh, worrying that if I stayed here too long, I wouldn't want to leave.

And that thought truly terrified me.

* * *

**Aha! I actually managed to get another chapter done quickly. Don't expect this for long. I'm going to try for an every two weeks update, seeing as I have two other regularly updated stories as well. Children, learn from my mistakes, only one story at a time. It makes the world ten times easier!**

**Anyways...**

**Sorry there's no intro for the next chapter... (I have yet to start writing it)**


	5. The Daft Bimbo

**I don't own Harry Potter (do I really still have to say this?)**

* * *

"Sir, are you sure that there's no way for me to get home?"

Dumbledore looked up from his folded hands, eyes weary.

"I apologize, Miss Barrows." He sighed. "Normally, I'd suggest the use of a time-turner. But, as you know, the ministry and I… don't see eye to eye at the moment. My access is barred."

I deflated, looking down at my hands as the pressure of my situation pressed against my lungs.

Would I ever get back?

The minister was a stubborn man; that much I knew. He wouldn't give in until Voldemort made his reappearance. And by then, everything would be in chaos. Security in the ministry would be on high. I doubted that it would even be possible to attain a time-turner until Voldemort was defeated for good this time.

And how far away was that? Two, three years? Honestly, I couldn't remember anymore.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, pulling me from my reverie.

"If I may ask, what is making you so eager to leave now?" The wise, old wizard inquired. "It didn't appear to concern you as much during the previous weeks."

I lowered my head, remembering these past few weeks. After earning detention with Umbridge, the Gryffindors seemed to respect me in a way. I was willing to defy the Toad from the Ministry, a feat not many managed. Suddenly students from my year were left and right, trying to figure out the mysterious 'transfer student'.

And they were nice, honestly. But to meet so many people whose futures I was vaguely aware of, it was almost terrifying.

I glanced up at Dumbledore, squaring my shoulders.

"I'm afraid." I whispered.

Dumbledore remained silent, urging me to continue.

"I've never been to well with people." I muttered, taking a deep breath. "Growing up, I was separated from the other children at the orphanage after my powers began to surface. And when I did see people I clammed up. Going to Hogwarts was definitely a new experience. There were so many people, I could barely handle it."

A sympathetic look passed over Dumbledore's face.

"So, I kept to myself. The students eventually gave up trying to talk and let me exist in silence. They'd approach me for simple things, but never stayed. No one noticed that I was slowly becoming more comfortable with their presences. And by the time I was able to actually talk around them, everyone was so used to leaving me on my own, it stayed that way."

I sighed.

"I was hoping that here would be the same. It would have been easier to leave that way."

Dumbledore watched me carefully.

"You're afraid of forming attachments to people." He stated.

It wasn't a question.

"I don't belong here." I smiled weakly. "It's hard to exist somewhere you aren't even supposed to be."

Dumbledore regarded me somberly, as if he heard this sort of speech before. But, after a few moments, he spoke.

"I don't believe that's true." He began, slowly standing. "You related to me your experience in coming here. What happened was so complex, filled with millions of different variables that would be impossible to get right. If one of those variables were misplaced and didn't exist, you wouldn't be here today, Miss Barrows."

The old wizard turned, petting his pet phoenix softly.

"To think that you don't belong here is foolish. Occurrences like these do not happen every day for any apparent reason. Your arrival here may have been for a specific reason or no reason at all. Call it fate, if you will."

I stood, sensing that my time with the headmaster was up.

"Creating bonds with others is not a weakness, Miss Barrows. It strengthens you, even if you have to leave it all behind."

A small smile graced my lips.

"Thank you, sir." I muttered, turning to leave.

Dumbledore hummed happily as I hesitated, suddenly curious.

"Sir?" I asked slowly. "I've been wondering for a while now, but why were you so quick to believe I was a time-traveler?"

For the first time that day, a smile appeared on Dumbledore's face.

"That's because, Miss Barrows," he chuckled, "You aren't the first student I've met who has accidentally travelled in time."

I gaped at the old wizard, trying to articulate some sort of thoughts. But, I quickly found myself being ushered out the door with haste.

"Now, now, you should be off to class. I've taken up too much time already."

I obliged, exiting the room, mind racing.

What on earth was he talking about?

…

"Hey! Hey you!"

I repressed a sigh, turning to see who was behind me. I'd exited Dumbledore's office mere minutes ago. My mind was in a daze from the information related to me. I shouldn't shut myself away from others. It wasn't right. I couldn't be afraid.

Using all my willpower, I turned around, plastering a pleasant smile on my face.

It was the loud girl from my year, Lavender, I believe. The girl ran towards me, dirty-blond hair bouncing with each step. I bit my lip, knowing what was coming.

"Hi!" She smiled brightly. "I'm Lavender Brown. And you are…"

"Gwendolyn Barrows." I acquiesced.

Lavender's smile grew.

"So where are you from? I know you're a transfer student, but you must've learned magic from somewhere. I mean, no one can just attempt magic on a fifth year level without any sort of training. If it were that easy, I'd be in my seventh year by now."

I stared incredulously at the bubbly witch in front of me.

How on earth was she able to talk that fast.

It took me another moment to realize that she asked me a question.

"Oh… um…" I stalled, trying not to fumble over my words. "I've been ill since I was younger. So, I wasn't able to go to school until now. Er… I'm all better you see."

I mentally face-palmed. Why did I have to be such a horrible liar?

Sympathy crossed over Lavender's face.

"I'm so sorry!" She squeaked, high-pitch voice hurting my ear drums as her face twisted into a pout.

I withheld another sigh as the reason behind her little talk surfaced in my mind. Lavender Brown was infamous for her gossiping. She probably needed more information for her next big rumor. But, I at least gave her the benefit of the doubt on whether or not her sympathy was real.

She wasn't totally heartless, I hoped.

"So," Lavender began conspiratorially, finally getting to the point of this conversation, "what do you think of that nasty rumor of You-Know-Who's return?"

I smiled sadly at the witch. It was just as Dumbledore had said a few weeks ago. Nobody believed the truth. Nobody believed Harry.

It was sad to think that those who believed in his very presence the most would turn their backs on him after the first piece of bad news he gave. It was cowardly, mental, disappointing…

It was just so sad.

Lavender decided to continue.

"Personally, I believe it's rubbish." She stated snottily. "That curse from You-Know-Who must've addled his brain a bit, if you know what I mean."

Snap.

"No, I bloody well do not know what you mean." I growled lightly, liking the girl less and less by the minute. "Were you there? Can you tell me for a fact that Voldemort hasn't returned?"

Lavender took in my sudden change of demeanor with shock, flinching at the sound of the dark wizard's name.

The witch began to splutter indignantly, face flushed.

"Y-you actually believe him?"

I glared at the petit gossiper.

"Of course." I retorted hotly. "You'd have to be a daft bimbo not to believe Harry."

Lavender's cheeks puffed up in anger at the insult. Numbly, I wondered if this would escalate into a duel.

But, as she opened her mouth to respond, her gaze drifted to over my shoulder. The change was instantaneous. Her eyes widened, color draining from her face within seconds. Without another word, Lavender Brown spun on her heel, furiously marching down the corridor and out of sight.

"Irritating girl…" I muttered, turning to see who scared her away.

Silently, I prayed it wasn't Snape. He still held onto that petty grudge for my messy arrival. He'd probably demand to know why I was disturbing the peace of the school with my petty fights.

But, in the end, it wasn't Snape.

It was Harry Potter.

My face reddened as I realized that he must've heard the whole conversation between Lavender and I.

The only emotion on his face was pure shock.

"Hello." I mumbled, awkwardly, fidgeting with the sleeves of my jumper.

"You believe me?" He asked skeptically, green eyes blazing with intensity and hope.

I smiled nervously. It must've seemed strange to him, having the new girl suddenly claiming faith in him when she barely knew him in the first place.

"Of course." I replied softly. "From what I've seen these past few weeks, you're no liar, Harry."

Relief spread across his face instantaneously, like this was the best news he heard in a while. I smiled once more before turning away and starting my walk to the common room.

I didn't want to impose.

However, quick steps sounded throughout the corridor as Harry caught up with me in seconds. I glanced at him shyly, feeling a strange swooping sensation in my stomach the moment our eyes met.

Harry gave me a small grin.

"So," He started. "Your name is Gwen?"

I nodded a bit taken back. Even if it was a botched version, it still sounded… nice when he said it.

"Hermione told you, right?" I asked, trying to be nonchalant.

Harry laughed a bit uncomfortably.

"Er… yeah." He confessed. "Everyone's been a bit curious about where you're from."

"I've noticed." I mumbled, glancing back at the direction Lavender scurried off to.

Harry stared at me quizzically.

"Everyone seems to be coming up with some sort of questions for me. Before that, er… disagreement, Lavender was basically taking an interview. Or, at least, that's what it seemed like."

Harry laughed weakly.

"Honestly, I sort of preferred it when no one knew anything about me." I mused. "It'd be easier then, in the end."

"What do you mean?"

I jumped, forgetting about exactly who I was talking to.

My mind went into overdrive, struggling to come up with some sort of excuse to what I'd let slip.

"Because…" I started slowly, averting my gaze to the stairs ahead. "I've been sick since I was little. And I got better."

Harry looked at me curiously as we started climbing the steps.

What on earth was I supposed to say?

"I'm not cured." I finally blurted.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I'm not cured." I echoed somberly. "There'll be a time I'm forced to go back to the hospital. And I'll never see any of you again."

Harry stared at me with and indiscernible look, almost pitying.

Why did the mood have to be so dreary now?

"But that's fine!" I finally acquiesced, a small smile playing on my lips. "I could have days, months, or even years! No one knows exactly. So I'll… I'll… I"

My eyes widened.

"I'll just live this out to the fullest until I do have to leave." I breathed in realization. "Why waste the first good thing that's happened to me in such a long time?"

Right… why would I waste this opportunity?

Sure, I'd miss the people I befriended in the end. But, things like this happened every day. People were always saying their goodbyes.

It would all be okay.

Harry suddenly stopped, jolting me out of my reverie. Glancing up, I was shocked to see the portrait of the Fat Lady in front of us.

I frowned.

How long was I actually thinking for?

I quickly relayed the password when Harry hesitated to do so.

Did he forget it?

Harry sent me a weak grin.

"Sorry," he started, a bit awkwardly. "I'm going to meet with some friends."

I nodded, instantly thinking of Ron and Hermione.

"Nice meeting you." He called.

I laughed, uttering a quick goodbye as I tried to ignore that swooping sensation once more. For a moment, I wondered if I was catching a cold. My face was pretty hot at the moment.

I turned to enter the common room.

"Gwen?" Harry asked.

I paused.

"What was it like, not having everyone know who you were?'

I stared at the Boy-Who-Lived.

What was it like?

I sent him a sad smile.

"It's lonely."

I turned my back on him while he considered my answer, softly swinging the portrait-door closed.

My hand brushed against my burning face, willing it to cool down.

"Oh my stars…" I muttered, scurrying off to my dorm. "I just had an actual conversation with Harry Potter."

This time really was a strange place.

* * *

**Hey everyone! **

**I just thought I'd make it clear. This is a Harry/OC story. The events that'll occur are purely canon. You won't have to worry about me going off on on a random direction and have them all in Rio or something. **

**Anyways, thanks for reading again. I'll be taking a break for the next week or so to work on some art projects. But next chapter is a surprise. It's something new that was needed in the previous version of this story and part of the reason I needed to restart this all in the first place.**

**Marietta out. **


	6. The Fever

I rolled over, groaning at the sudden pounding in my skull and churning of my stomach.

Today was not going to be a good day.

My eyelids cracked open, instantly closing in frustration at the glaring sunlight filtering through my window.

Why did it have to be so bright?

I rolled over once more, reaching for my wand. My fingers fumbled for the thin piece of wood, clumsily knocking it to the ground.

A sigh slipped through my lips as I leaned over the side of my bed, stretching out towards my arm.

Black spots decorated my vision.

"Wha-" I slurred, dropping to the wooden floor with an ungraceful thump.

Was it getting hotter in here?

I took a deep breath, attempting to clear the fogginess in my mind. But it barely wavered, slamming back in full-force.

I fell forward on all fours.

"What's… happening…" I choked out, heat clawing at my body. It engulfed me, like a flame.

Sweat pooled on my forehead.

"Am I… on fire?" I muttered incoherently as everything began to spin.

Everything felt so numb…

Beds tumbled in and out of my vision as lights flit around me like a kaleidoscope. It was a spectacle to my muddled mind as bright colors intertwined throughout the hazy scene.

My eyes widened in wonder as my hands childishly reached up in attempt to touch the lights.

It all looked so beautiful.

However, the moment my fingers grazed the colors, the world faded around me, silenced with a sickening thud.

….

Hermione was never one to be distracted during her classes. She had an impressive attention span, a talent the young witch was especially proud of. It aided her in attaining the status of "cleverest witch of her year", after all.

So, it came as a surprise to the other fifth year Gryffindors as they saw the bushy-haired witch swiveling her head from side to side, not paying an ounce of attention to the monotonous Professor Binns. Many stared in awe at this occurrence.

It was unnatural.

Hermione Granger, however, paid everyone else's reactions no heed. She scanned the classroom in curiosity, finally focusing on an empty seat in the back.

Gwendolyn Barrows wasn't in class.

Hermione frowned, glancing down at her notes. It wasn't really her concern, even if she hadn't seen her at breakfast either.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to rid the nagging feeling currently prodding her consciousness.

Hermione sighed.

She had mixed feelings over the enigma known as Gwendolyn Barrows. She was a strange girl, to say the least.

When Dumbledore had pulled her aside after the feast, she'd been stunned to hear of the girl's situation. To be sent back in time in such a turn of events was unheard of, nearly improbable. Hermione could hardly believe it.

But, as the Headmaster escorted her to his office to wait, she couldn't help but think what a dangerous time she'd dropped in. With You-Know-Who on the prowl and the ministry as ignorant as ever, the girl would not find herself as safe as she was most likely used to.

Hermione could only hope that the future was peaceful, free from the regimen You-Know-Who wished to enact.

And also, that the witch would prove more good than harm.

No one wanted a second Draco Malfoy strutting around the castle.

So, when the girl walked in, Hermione had watched her with a careful eye. What she saw relieved her, but only slightly.

Gwendolyn Barrows was a thin girl, nearly too thin to be considered healthy. That much was obvious by the way her robes hung off her frame. She's imagined that Mrs. Weasley would have a field day stuffing the girl with plate after plate of food. The witch looked near hollow.

At first, she considered that there was an eating disorder involved, but as the weeks passed, seeing Gwendolyn in the Great Hall for each meal eating contentedly was enough to dissolve those observations. That still left the question of why she appeared so malnourished.

Hermione then noticed her long blond hair that hung to her middle back, slung behind her without a care. It was obvious with that and the fact that she didn't wear a spot of makeup that she didn't hold too much value in her looks.

That was an instant relief in itself. She'd already heard enough complaints over beauty from Lavender Brown.

Hermione had continued to observe Gwendolyn as time wore on, watching her every reaction as Dumbledore explained the situation.

She was very fidgety, uncomfortable with attention. It didn't bode well to Hermione at the time, coming off as an inane nervousness.

What was there to worry about?

However, she found herself more and more confused as she glanced at her expression, not finding the expected cunning or guilt hidden in her large gray eyes. In fact, any emotion was nonexistent. Her eyes were devoid of any feeling, silent and closed-off.

Hermione doubted that the girl even noticed.

After the meeting, Hermione found herself more and more befuddled at the girl. She'd marked Gwendolyn off as distant and harmless. But there was more to that. At times, the witch was a contradiction in itself.

She appeared to have an aversion to others, yet there was a happiness that filled her empty eyes the moment someone spoke to her, even if it was only a greeting. She appeared quietly submissive and mousy, yet managed to scrape in a detention with Umbridge within a single class period. Gwendolyn appeared frightened of her situation, yet managed to hold her own against their curious classmates without a stumble.

It was all so confusing.

Hermione couldn't help but sigh as she attempted to focus on Binn's lecture once more. But, by the time they were dismissed, she doubted that she'd be able to remember a single word their ghostly professor had uttered.

Hermione silently prayed that by some miracle, Harry and Ron managed to have taken extensive notes during that time.

However, the moment she took a single look at her best friends' dashed her hopes completely. It was a foolish wish anyway.

Hermione accompanied Ron and Harry as they walked, talking about one thing or the other. She attempted to follow along, keeping her mind off of the strange witch she'd been assigned to look over. Yet, after a quick glance through the Great Hall, Hermione excused herself, leaving her friends to their lunches.

Gwendolyn still wasn't there.

The bushy-haired witch grumbled to herself as she sped towards the Gryffindor common room with haste. She didn't know why she had to worry so much about the girl. Maybe it was the way she spoke softly, as if she was afraid of being heard. Or maybe it was the way she sat alone at meals, shoulders hunched like she carried the world itself on her shoulders.

Either way, Hermione knew that there was something off with that witch, something that made her so darn confusing.

…..

_I always wondered what it was like to be a normal child. _

_I'd see them through my window, walking past Wool's Orphanage, not giving it a second glance. They'd have friends with them, chattering away lightly. There were no looks of depression or regret, only contentment. It was like they hadn't a care in the world._

_It was a foreign concept to someone like me. _

_I'd watch the normal kids walk by every day, sitting at the window. It was the only thing to do these days. _

_I glanced around my room, taking in the monotonous grey tones. It was the same as usual; cramped, bland, and depressing. I sat on my bed, which was pushed up against the wall, directly under the window. The rest of the room was barely a few feet in diameter, the only other object being a rickety wardrobe. It all felt so constricting. _

_I played with my hair, newly wet from a shower. It was a compulsive thing, really, playing with the wet, blonde strands. It gave my hands something to do, something to play with. _

_Merlin knows there was nothing else left for me to do. _

_With my wand and books locked away in the closet across the hall, I was stuck observing the world through a foggy pane, ignoring the sharp pains in my stomach. _

_A familiar creak emanated from outside catching my attention. I spotted Mrs. Stokes leaving the property, husband in tow. It looked like it was finally time for her lunch break. _

_I wondered if she purposely forgot to serve me my lunch again. It wouldn't be the first time. _

_Mrs. Stokes drove away. _

_I slid from my bed out of habit, stepping towards the large wooden door in front of me. It was always locked, that door. It had been for the last month, from the last time I was granted a break. _

_It didn't surprise me as my hand felt resistance, acknowledging once more that I wouldn't be leaving this room, not until September returned once more. _

…_.._

Hermione knocked lightly on Gwendolyn's door, plastering a smile to her face. She expected that this was where the witch was hiding out.

No one answered.

"Gwendolyn?" She called hesitantly, feeling a bit foolish. "Are you there?"

Another minute passed without an answer.

Hermione took a deep breath, slipping her wand into her hand. She nudged the door open gently, careful to peek around the wood.

"Gwendolyn, it's…"

The bushy-haired witch trailed off as she stepped into the room, instantly spotting the missing girl curled up on the floor, shaking.

For a frightening moment, Hermione wondered if she was having a seizure.

But, as she approached the fallen witch, it became clear from the sight of her red, sweaty face that a fever was to blame.

Hermione placed her hand lightly onto Gwendolyn's forehead pulling it away in an instant.

She was burning up.

"Gwendolyn." Hermione urged, jostling the girl slightly. "Can you hear me?"

The witch only whimpered, rolling onto her back.

Hermione did not like this one bit.

She wracked her brains for an answer. A high fever like this could end badly. She could even end up having an actual seizure.

Hermione stood, aiming her wand at Gwendolyn.

She knew what she had to do.

"Mobilicorpus."

…

_I sat in darkness, feeling around for my blanket. _

_It was strangely cold for a summer night. _

_My hands brushed against the ratty fabric, making me cringe. After spending an entire school year sleeping in the soft comforters at Hogwarts, the sparse bedding here almost seemed barbaric. But, I didn't dare complain. _

_This was my life, after all. _

_I turned to the window, lightly placing my hand against the chilled pane. Not a single thing could be viewed from my glassy companion, not after Mrs. Stokes boarded it up while I was off at school. This room was in a constant state of darkness, almost like a dark prison. Half the times, I didn't even bother opening my eyes. _

_It wouldn't make a difference anyways. _

_I slid back onto my bed, closing my eyes drearily. _

_It was difficult to live in a constant state of darkness. The room was timeless. Day and night didn't exist here, only unconsciousness and awareness. _

_I remembered the last time I felt the sun, the warmth of its kiss. But, the heat of the memory had far faded. Nothing my chilly air surrounded me now. _

_And thus I existed, trapped in my very own abyss. _

….

Hermione carefully levitated Gwendolyn into the hospital wing, grateful that everyone was too busy eating their lunch to spot her transporting the poor witch across the castle.

"Madame Pomfry?" She called, expecting the matron to burst out of her office to assist her.

Not a single step was heard.

Hermione sighed, glancing at her watch. The witch must have joined the other faculty for lunch, lunch that wouldn't be finished for nearly another ten minutes. The Hospital Wing was empty, after all.

Shaking her head at the turn of events, Hermione turned her attention back to Gwendolyn, who was currently being suspended in the air besides her.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione started to lower the unconscious witch onto the nearest cot, intent on not disturbing the girl. But the moment Gwendolyn's head hit her pillow, her eyes flew wide open.

Hermione bit back a curse. She wasn't supposed to wake up.

Gwendolyn groaned, shifting into a sitting position. Her hands came up to her face, rubbing wearily against her eyes before dropping into her lap.

Hermione was surprised to see that she looked so… confused.

Gwendolyn spotted her in an instant.

"Who are you?" She asked in a small voice. "Where have you taken me?"

Hermione stiffened.

That wasn't right.

Gwendolyn's face was flushed, probably even more than usual. The shaking stopped, but her eyes were hazy. It was like she wasn't even seeing anything.

Hermione surmised that she must be in the hallucination part of her sickness.

"Where am I?" Gwendolyn tried again. "Am I dead?"

Hermione turned, watching the witch carefully.

"Why would you be dead?"

Gwendolyn glanced to the side guiltily, like a child.

"It's just…" She mumbled, voice high. "It's just so light here and pretty. Not like that other place."

Hermione raised a brow in confusion.

"Other place?"

Gwendolyn stiffened.

The girl was completely silent.

"What other place?" Hermione attempted again.

She watched as Gwendolyn stared ahead of her, biting her lip in comprehension. Hermione could almost see the cogs turning with her thoughts. They remained that way for a moment until the girl's eyes brightened as she shuffled to the edge of her cot.

Hermione watched as she approached her, holding out her pinky with a smile.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone." She stated defiantly.

Hermione almost laughed.

Gwendolyn definitely had the mindset of a child at the moment. It was definitely strange.

Deciding to not waste any time, Hermione wrapped her pinky with the ill girl's

"Promise."

….

Hermione frowned, stirring her soup idly with her spoon. Madame Pomfry had returned shortly after Gwendolyn started to tell her story, of how she was kept in her 'prison', as she called it. It was a sad story, although Hermione wasn't entirely sure if it was just another hallucination cooked up by the witch's fever. She doubted that was the case though.

It accounted for some of Gwendolyn's strange behavior, now that she thought of it.

The girl had been locked away from the other children, accounting for her lack of social skill. It was why she fidgeted so much under attention, why she seemed to wilt under the gazes of others. It was all so new for her.

And she was lonely.

The arrival of Ron and Harry brought her from her reverie.

"Oi!" Ron blurted as he sat down. "Where have you been all day?! We haven't seen you since lunch!"

Hermione glanced up at the ginger, smiling slightly at his brash concern.

"Hospital Wing." She stated simply, returning to playing with her soup.

She glanced up in time to see them stiffening.

"What happened?" Harry asked instantly, concern and confusion apparent on his face.

Hermione turned away from her dish.

"Gwendolyn Barrows," She watched as recognition lit up in Harry's green eyes. Ron however only tilted his head. "I found her unconscious in her dorm."

Harry frowned.

"Was it her… er, sickness?" He asked uncertainly.

Hermione shook her head.

"Just a fever." She amended. "Madame Pomfry said that she'd be fine by the morning."

Harry nodded shortly, staring ahead.

"She seems lonely." He started randomly. "Like she… Never mind."

Harry started on his meal, abandoning what he'd been planning to say.

Ron was already half-way through his soup.

Hermione took a sip, pondering on Harry's words.

He was right. Gwendolyn was lonely. Paired with her lack of social skills and current situation, it would be barmy for her not to be.

Hermione sighed.

Dumbledore had instructed her to watch over the girl during her stay in this time. She thought he had meant it as purely supervision. But now, she couldn't help but wonder if he meant something different…

The witch sat there for a moment before her eyes filled up with determination.

She knew what to do.

Gwendolyn Barrows needed a friend, and that's exactly what Hermione was going to be.

* * *

**I will be honest, I didn't really enjoy writing this chapter. I'm so used to writing in first person, a sudden switch to third person was troublesome. Gosh... But what's written is written. I just have to work harder on the next chapter. **

**Next time: Blood Purity Nonsense **


	7. Blood-Purity Nonsense

Some days I wondered if the universe had some sort of cosmic, long-standing grudge against me. Maybe then, half of the messes I got myself into would be explained. Like right now…

"What have we got here?" A voice purred into my ear, causing me to inadvertently shiver.

I flinched at the sudden proximity between me and the towering, dark-haired Slytherin, trying to recall how I got into this mess in the first place.

"Oh, look boys! We've got ourselves a stray Gryffindor." He crowed yanking my maroon and gold-striped tie from under my thin jumper. "Makes sense… No Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would be stupid enough to approach, let alone run straight into us."

I stopped struggling against the vile boy's grip, blinking.

Of course…

Memories of the past few minutes rushed into my mind.

It was all a blur, now that I thought about it. I'd woken up far too late that morning, realizing that Transfiguration would be beginning in half an hour. And I learned very early that no one wanted to be on McGonagall's bad side. She may be Gryffindor's head, but that didn't mean she'd be lenient. I'd heard the stories.

So, I'd been in a rush, throwing on clothes while trying to make myself presentable before tearing through the halls in a mad dash. I had been about to turn into the Transfiguration courtyard when I accidentally careened into a group of Slytherins…

Which left me where I was at the present, surrounded by a leering group of gits.

The dark-haired Slytherin continued to mock me as I backed into the stone archway. But, with a sharp yank of my tie, he was once more in my face, sneering crookedly.

He was far too close.

"I bet you're a mudblood-lover like the lot of them, aren't you?" He growled, eyes lighting up at the anger that passed over my face at the use of that vulgar name.

It set my blood to a boil.

"Oh, I've hit a nerve. I bet you didn't like my comment just now. So you are one then, unless…" His eyes narrowed. "You're the one with the filthy blood."

I bit back the retort that bubbled to my lips as the boys around me began to guffaw.

"I'll take that as a yes, _Mudblood._" He sneered, pushing me back into the arch. "I'll tell you a secret."

My hand slipped into my pocket, searching for my wand.

"There's a rumor that You-Know-Who is back. And you know what that means?" He breathed, goons laughing darkly. "Filthy pieces of rubbish like you will have to watch your back."

A stray group of Hufflepuffs scurried by as my hand closed around my wand. They didn't even make eye contact.

However, they proved as a suitable enough distraction as I whipped my wand out of my pocket, biting down on my lip as the boys mirrored my movements.

I bit back a curse.

"Look here!" Their leader exclaimed cruelly. "She's going to fight her way out."

I leveled my wand at the Slytherin's chest.

"Let me through." I ground out, wincing at the inherit softness of my voice.

The boy only laughed, jabbing his wand against my heart.

"Sorry, couldn't hear you." He mocked, motioning towards his ear with his free hand. "But is that any way to treat your superiors?"

I gripped my wand tighter, frowning in disgust.

"The only superiors here are the professors, which none of you are." I grounded out. "Now get out of my bloody way before I'm late for Transfiguration. I don't have time for you blood-bigots."

One of the boys whistled under their breath as the dark-haired Slytherin's eyes narrowed. With a snap of his fingers everyone stepped closer, one by one, boxing me in.

I panicked.

"Stupefy!"

My spell struck the tall, wiry Slytherin as their leader jumped out of the way, nocking a two more down with them.

The wiry boy crumpled to the stony ground eyes wide with shock.

In the resulting panic, I slipped through the gap, barreling into the barren courtyard.

It only took a few seconds for them to recover their wits, sending curse after curse my way. Colors flew through the air, whizzing past my head like rockets. I bit my lip as I neared the opposite side of the courtyard.

Almost there…

It was then that a tripping jinx caught me, sending me tumbling to the ground.

I didn't hesitate.

"Protego!" I shrieked, erecting a wall of light to protect me. Small thumps filled my ears as spell after spell bombarded my shield.

A string of curses slipped out of my mouth as I surveyed my situation.

The result of the tripping had cornered me into a wall. The exit was a bit away, possible to reach if I sprinted. But under the heavy barrage of curses, I doubted that it would work.

It would be incredibly difficult to dodge every single one of their spells.

I spied through my weakening shield of light. There were five Slytherins in total, including the one I paralyzed moments before. That left four, four boys aiming for me. Four boys to take down by myself…

I had to run.

But, I never got the chance.

"Crucio!" The dark-haired leader thundered, face red.

My eyes widened in fear as the spell hit my shield in slow motion, instantly shattering the wall of light. But, it didn't stop there. The spell kept on coming.

I tried to twist out of the way, desperate not to be hit by such a dreadful curse. It came closer and closer and…

The Cruciatus Curse struck me in the shoulder.

The pain was… indescribable.

In an instant, I was on the ground, writhing uncontrollably, unable to create a coherent thought. The only thing that processed through my brain was a single word: pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

For the first time in my fifteen miserable years of life, I truly wanted to die. What was the point? I didn't have a single friend my age. It didn't matter that people finally began to see me. I didn't care. I only wanted the pain to end, the pain that sliced at me like a thousand burning knives.

Life meant nothing.

And after what felt like hours, it relented.

New shouts filled the air, each processing in my sluggish mind. Someone was here to help.

With a grunt, I pushed my trembling body from the ground, shuffling painfully to my feet, taking aim once more. My vision blurred, attempting to adjust to the sudden lack of pain.

I directed my wand towards the now-busy dark-haired Slytherin.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I muttered, feeling a twinge of pain from my raw throat.

Had I been screaming?

I couldn't help but watch in satisfaction as the abhorrent boy fell to the ground. The git got what he deserved.

Silence filled the courtyard.

My eyes scanned the area spotting the rest of the Slytherins passed out on the stone ground. For a moment, confusion struck until the sound of footsteps from my side reminded me that I wasn't alone.

Someone helped me.

I turned, finding myself face to face with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley; both of who were disheveled but exhilarated by the looks on their faces.

I almost fell over in shock.

What were they doing here?

"Oi!" Ron suddenly burst out. "Did you see the look on that git's face when I hit him with that bat-bogey hex?!"

Harry chuckled, amused.

"They were hard to miss, especially when…"

Harry trailed off as he caught the astonished expression on my face.

"What are you two doing here?" I whispered, throat still stinging.

It wasn't that I was ungrateful. It was just… strange. Harry and Ron, part of the golden trio had just come to my rescue. The boys my generation nearly worshiped saved a strange girl they barely knew. It was hard to believe.

The boys exchanged dark looks at my question.

"You look like you needed help." Harry stated nonchalantly, expression suddenly clear.

I couldn't help but notice the amusement in his eyes had disappeared altogether.

Tension filled the air from the resulting silence as the boys eyed the fallen Slytherins.

"No…" I tried nervously. "Why aren't you both in Transfiguration?"

The boys' eyes widened comically as they realized that the resulting fight had made us all late. Class had started minutes ago.

Harry turned to me, emerald eyes almost nervous, in a way.

"Are you alright?" He asked quickly.

I nodded, confused.

"Why-" I started to ask before Harry's hand shot out, snatching my wrist.

And suddenly, we were running.

Harry and Ron sprinted towards the classroom, with me in tow behind them. No one wanted to face McGonagall's wrath so early in the morning.

I could help but laugh at the exhilarating feeling of my hair whipping behind me as I ran with the pair, legs pumping hard and harder in an attempt to run faster and faster. It was a strange feeling, the lightness in my chest as I looked over at Harry's grinning face.

I never saw him smiling that often and with a life like his, it was understandable.

But, I decided in that moment that he looked nice when he smiled. His eyes squinted just a bit, brightening his already stunning green eyes. It was infectious.

We arrived moments later, surprised to see that McGonagall hadn't even arrived yet.

We were safe.

I slumped into my chair, attempting to catch my breath. Hermione was watching Harry and Ron, who had taken their seats near her in confusion, looking almost disapproving at their tardiness.

I laid my head against the cool desk in front of me, trying to comprehend what had just happened. But a nagging question distracted me from further thought as I tried to understand why the wrist Harry grabbed moments earlier was still tingling.

…

The moment I entered Defense Against the Dark Arts, I began to wonder if I was dying all over again. My limbs were all stiff, sore from the Cruciatus Curse. Any movement sent a stab of pain through my body, eliciting a small groan to slip from my lips.

So, it wasn't exactly surprising that I failed to notice someone sitting beside me as I collapsed into my chair.

"Gwendolyn?"

I flinched, turning to see a concerned Hermione Granger sitting next to me.

I stared at the witch, confused. No one ever sat by me, not in this time period.

"I heard what happened before Transfiguration." She stated softly. "Harry and Ron told me."

I could suppress the sad smile that slipped onto my face. I'd only been here a month, and I already was involved in a fight. It was mental, thinking about it. Compared to my last four years at Hogwarts, it was far more productive than the others. Honestly, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was all so new to me.

Hermione didn't miss the confliction in my expression.

"Are you alright?" She asked, eyebrows pulling together in concern.

I forced a smile.

"Just a bit sore." I amended.

Hermione nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. She appeared as if she wanted to say something, but thought better of it.

However, it seemed that she finally overcame her internal argument as she opened her mouth a moment later.

"Harry's worried about you."

I blinked.

Worried?

Why would he be worried?

"I don't think he realizes it yet." She continued, eying the black-haired boy sitting a few rows ahead of us. "He was… different whenever I asked about you. It looked like concern to me."

I stared ahead as Umbridge emerged from her office, ignoring the sweet smile she sent me. The pain of the Cruciatus Curse was still on the forefront of my mind. If that curse was kept up any longer, who knew what would have happened.

I shuddered at the thought.

"I'm really thankful for his and Ron's help." I finally said. "If they didn't make it when they did, I would have been in serious trouble."

Hermione stared at me for a moment, appearing to be choosing her next words carefully.

"When you arrived," She began uncertainly. "Ron said that you were screaming."

I bit down on my lip, nodding.

"What did they do to you?"

The last question came out as a whisper, not intrusive by far, only worried.

"Cruciatus curse…" I murmured, looking down at my hands. "I didn't even realize I was screaming. I couldn't feel anything besides the…"

I sighed.

"It's a bloody awful curse." I whispered. "It takes away all that holds you and replaces it with pain until you're left with nothing but a wish for death."

Hermione frowned, steely anger flaring in her muddy eyes.

"If that," she spat, glaring at Umbridge, "actually taught us a worthwhile lesson involving the use of magic, we would actually be able to properly defend ourselves."

I nodded fervently.

"It's like she wants us to be helpless." I agreed.

We fell into silence.

Almost a minute later, I noticed that she'd begun fidgeting once more.

The look was back.

"You can say whatever you want to." I told her lightly, lips twitching in the slightest.

Hermione nodded seriously.

"What would you say if I told you that I knew someone who could teach us practical magic, magic to prepare us for the O.W.L.s?"

My eyes instantly snapped towards the bushy-haired witch.

She didn't mean…

There was a rumor back in Hogwarts, that a group of students rallied during Umbridge's reign at Hogwarts, learning what she refused to teach others. The army that dared defy her…

I smiled.

"I'd say that you should introduce me to that person quickly before my brain rots from this load of Doxie droppings Umbridge calls a lesson."

Hermione broke out into a smile.

"Well, meet me at the Hog's Head during out next Hogsmeade trip. Harry, Ron, some other students, and I are gathering to discuss this _issue._"

I nodded instantly, eager at the prospect.

"What-"

"_Hem, hem_"

I glanced up, startled.

Umbridge made her way over to Hermione and I, smiling that false smile.

"Miss Granger," She started sweetly. "I believe your seat is over there."

Hermione blinked.

"Sorry Professor." She apologized, voice layered with innocence. "I sit next to Gwendolyn in all my other classes. I must've forgotten."

It took all my self-control to not burst out laughing there as the Toad narrowed her eyes. But after a moment, she gave a stiff nod as Hermione slipped back to the middle of the room, taking her seat next to Harry.

Umbridge sent me one last glare before slinking away as well.

A smirk slid across my face the moment she turned away from me. Hermione knew full well that the closest we sat was in Transfiguration, and even then we had three rows in between us. But, Umbridge didn't have to know that.

I glanced at the bushy-haired witch, remembering what she'd just told me.

"Blimey…" I whispered disbelievingly. "I'm going to be a part of Dumbledore's Army…"

I only hoped that I wouldn't be getting into something that was way over my head. But, seeing how the universe was feeling about me lately…

I truly doubted it.

* * *

**Thanks for all the support you guys! I really appreciate it. :)**

**Next Time: The Hog's Head**


	8. The Hog's Head

In the future, I'd never stepped foot in the Hog's head. In fact, I hadn't been in Hogsmeade since my first trip, third year. And even then, the excursion didn't last more than an hour before my mind was made up to return.

I had learned very quickly that the trips to Hogsmeade were best with company. Going alone made everything seem… lonelier.

But this trip would be different.

My first impression of the Hog's Head was a single word. The place was a dump.

It was small, dingy and packed tight with an assortment of Hogwarts students. The disgruntled barman glared sullenly at the lot of us. It was clear that he'd rather serve only the meager lot that had been in the grimy pub to begin with than entertain a group of twittering students going on about one thing or the other.

In all honesty, he looked like a rather grumpy version of Dumbledore.

Students filled the small pub, all from different houses and years, except for Slytherin of course. Looking around, I found a few familiar faces. But, even after a month of being in this time, I still found it difficult to match names to the faces.

After all, the only person I talked to nowadays was Hermione, and every so often Harry.

After a moment's thought, I took my seat between a haughty, blond-haired boy and a kind-looking, round-faced boy from Gryffindor. The haughty boy barely gave my presence any acknowledgement besides a sharp jerk of the head. The Gryffindor however, sent me a smile and a quick greeting before being distracted by a pair of other Gryffindors behind us.

I picked at the sleeves of my jumper, wearily avoiding any eye-contact until the infamous Weasley twins demanded that we fork over some money for butterbeers. For a moment, I perked up at the thought of my favorite drink, but glanced forlornly at my empty pockets of the hand-me-down jeans Dumbledore had provided me. I didn't have a single galleon to my name here.

Dumbledore had taken immediately to getting me the clothing I'd need for the school year, as it was a necessity as of now. He managed to provide a decent amount of uniforms, jeans, t-shirts, and jumpers, and most of anything else I'd need. But, money was another issue.

When it came to money, any transactions would be alerted to the ministry, alerting them to my sudden presence here. So, Dumbledore instructed me that if I ever was in need of any money, I needed to send him an owl.

But, the thought of spending the generous man's galleons made my stomach sick. He'd already done so much for me…

I sighed. I didn't need butterbeer anyway.

My sudden exhale caught the round-faced boy's attention almost immediately.

"Did you forget your money?" He asked, a bit sympathetically.

I plastered a smile to my face, nodding contentedly, smothering the embarrassment of being so childish. It was only a butterbeer.

"Yeah, something like that." I replied pleasantly.

The boy chuckled.

"I always forget my things." He admitted after a moment. "I even lost my rememberall…"

The gryffindor got a faraway look in his eyes for a few seconds, as if he was recalling something. He blinked, attention suddenly back on me.

"Here, I've brought some extra!"

I peeked up at his newly-risen pudgy hand, immediately spotting the galleons resting there.

"For me?" I breathed, trying to hope this wasn't some sick joke.

I really wanted that butterbeer.

The boy nodded enthusiastically, rising to give the Weasley twin the money.

"Thanks… er" I fumbled, trying to remember the nice boy's name.

"Neville Longbottom." he said simply, ambling over to the group of students handing their money over to Fred and George.

I stiffened immediately as my brain nearly exploded.

Neville… Longbottom…

My eyes widened considerably.

Professor Longbottom.

That was professor Longbottom.

That was the professor who introduced me to the world of witchcraft and wizardry.

I could remember it clearly.

I'd been sitting at my window as usual, watching the different people walk past. No one turned to look at the orphanage anymore. They'd pass by without a second glance.

Sometimes, I wondered if they could see it to begin with.

That day, I found myself watching as a strange old man was walking along the gate. He looked like any other old man, but there was something different. He was actually looking towards the orphanage.

My eleven year old self immediately placed her hand against the window, asking silently if he could see me. No one just _looked _at the orphanage. It was avoided like the plague, like it was some sort of blemish on the face of London.

But that old man did.

I ended up watching the old man curiously, willing him to turn his head my way. If he saw me, even waved…

It would remind me that I actually existed.

That I was alive…

And to my surprise, the man entered though the main entrance, eventually making his way into the building. And that was the end of it.

And after what felt like hours later, the Matron opened my door, introducing the man as Professor Longbottom, a man offering me a place at some boarding school.

And thus my life began.

I stirred from my reverie, shrinking into my chair as I realized what had just transpired.

_I met the younger version of my professor. _

Muffling a sigh, I glanced around the musty pub, wondering if any of these students would remember me. Would they look at my twelve year old self and think, 'She reminds me of that girl from fifth year?'

I doubted it.

I shifted in my seat, returning my gaze to the front, landing on the familiar face of Harry Potter. It took me a moment to notice that he was staring right back.

I nearly fell off of my stool.

His bright green eyes roved over my face, taking in my shrinking with amusement. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I nervously smiled at the wizard.

What was wrong with me?

Harry immediately smiled back.

It was at that moment that Neville arrived back, butterbeers in hand.

"Here you go." He started kindly, causing me to jump in surprise.

I could barely hear the snickers coming from Harry's direction.

Glancing back, I saw the boy looking innocently at the ground, grin plastered on his face. He did have a nice smile…

I frowned at the direction of my thoughts, choosing to focus instead on the butterbeer. I took the bottle from Professor- er, Neville's hand, thanking him profusely.

Hesitantly, I took a sip from the bottle, instantly grinning the moment the bubbling liquid entered my mouth.

I hadn't had one of these since Aiden Potter and his gang snuck bottles after bottles of this into the common room our fourth year. They were for everyone, or at least, I hope they were.

No one noticed me taking one either way.

My thoughts were interrupted by Hermione.

"Er-" She tried to begin as everyone finally settled into their seats. I took a small sip of my butterbeer, watching as Hermione nervously surveyed us all.

Finally, the room fell silent.

"Er…" She started, voice higher than usual. "Well – er – hi."

I grinned comfortingly at the fidgety girl. She sounded a bit like me most times, I expected.

"Well… erm… well, you know why you're here. Erm… well, Harry here had the idea-" She cut off when Harry threw her a sharp look.

For a moment, I wonder if he even wanted to do what Hermione was about to suggest.

"I mean- I had the idea that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts- and I mean really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" (Hermione's voice became steadier and stronger) "because no one could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts."

A boy behind me gave a 'hear, hear,' and Hermione looked heartened.

I stared intently at Hermione, waiting for her to continue.

She did not disappoint.

"Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."

…

The moment the meeting ended, I nearly ploughed through a group of Gryffindors just to sign Hermione's paper. Only the Weasley twins stood ahead of me.

The idea of openly rebelling against Umbridge was enticing, especially since I'd seen firsthand how horrid she could be.

I stepped forward, signing my name neatly under the twins', grinning at a pleased-looking Hermione.

Gwendolyn Barrows was officially a part of history.

I stumbled to the side, trying to sidestep those around the paper. However, that only resulted in me almost tripping over a stray stool.

An endearing chuckle rang out from behind me.

I spun around, finding myself face to face with an amused Harry.

"This is bloody brilliant, I hope you know." I said, blushing immensely at my newfound-clumsiness.

Harry blinked, almost looking surprised.

"Thanks…" He muttered, glancing at the crowd. "I wasn't sure how this was going to turn out."

We stood there for a few moments talking about what was going to happen now. He wasn't too sure how to go forward now that he knew people actually wanted to learn from him. It wasn't something he expected.

I smiled in response to that, telling him that he was going to be great.

But, the wizard didn't hear me, seemingly distracted. He had the strangest look on his face…

I peeked over my shoulder, following his eye-line to a pretty Asian girl, a Ravenclaw, by the looks of it. She waved shyly at Harry, cheeks tinted pink.

My stomach dropped as he awkwardly waved back, looking ridiculously happy.

Suddenly, the strange look clicked in my slow brain.

I'd seen that face on plenty of love-struck boys before.

Why was everything so cold now?

"Well…" I forced out in my normal soft tone. "I'm really looking forward to you teaching all of us. I'm sure you'll make a great teacher."

"What?" Harry questioned, straining to hear over the excited murmur of the crowd. His eyes were still flicking toward the Ravenclaw. "I can't hear you."

Annoyance bubbled in my stomach slightly at his inattention, or was it aimed at the girl. I shook my head, forcing a smile.

They didn't do anything wrong. There was no reason for me to be angry at either of them.

"I said that I'm going to go now!" I said, straining to raise my voice. "I really wanted to go see Honeydukes!"

Harry only nodded.

"Okay then," he replied, "see you later."

He was still looking at her.

I didn't even bother plastering a smile on my face before turning on my heel.

Within seconds I was out of the pub, breathing erratically.

An early snow had arrived this October, dusting the streets in a fine layer of powdery snow. The wind blew lightly, peppering me with icy snowflakes.

I couldn't help but shiver, clutching at my thin jumper.

I looked dully at the sky, trying to wrangle down the emotions running through me.

Distraction… I needed a distraction…

Students littered the streets, talking about their trivial dramas. In the back of my mind, I noted that Hogsmeade barely even changed, except for the fact that there was a Zonko's instead of a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Boys crowded around the joke shop, twittering on about the latest product that had come out. Groups of girls watched them longingly.

The lovesick expressions bit at my patience.

Why did everyone have to have that look on their face?

I rushed into the warm confines of Honeydukes, hoping that the candy would prove a good enough distraction.

I gravitated towards the variety of sugar quills perched upon the shelf. The arrangement was bright, whimsical. I felt a smile twitch at my lips at the sight.

However, that smile was short-lived as the shrill voice of Lavender Brown resounded behind me.

Letting out a derisive sigh, I moved through the crowd, avoiding the girl entirely.

I hid behind a stand of fluorescent lollipops, desperately wishing the girl away.

Since the last run-in, Lavender was definitely not my biggest fan.

"Come on Pavarti!" She trilled, pulling the distressed Gryffindor girl to the other side of the stand. "What's wrong?"

I held back my groan.

Pavarti glanced at the ground uncertainly as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

For a moment, I tried to calculate whether I could slip by the girls unnoticed, but the sound of Pavarti's voice interrupted me.

"I've been feeling strange around this boy…" she muttered, cheeks reddening by the second.

I froze.

Feeling strange around a boy…

"What are you going on about?" Lavender questioned impatiently.

The girl peeked up through her hair.

"Whenever I'm near him; my heart speeds up." She muttered quietly, a dreamy look spreading across her face. I began listening intently.

My heart always seems to skip a beat whenever I saw Harry…

Lavender encouraged Pavarti to continue, an amused look in her eyes.

"When he smiles, I can feel butterflies in my stomach and I can't help but smile along, even if I don't know what's funny."

Harry's smile was just infectious, right?

"Then, whenever he looks my way, I feel so happy… I don't understand."

A smile graced my lips at the sound of those words. At least I wasn't the only one confused. But, apparently Lavender wasn't, as she instantly burst into a fit of laughter.

"What is it?!' Pavarti nearly yelled at the hysterical girl. The students around them gave the pair some disdained looks and ignored them.

"I… didn't know…" she gasped between her high-pitched giggles, "that you… could be so dense!"

I stared at my hands, ice pooling my stomach.

How were we dense?

Lavender suddenly straightened with a snap and grinned playfully at the Gryffindor girl.

"Isn't it obvious?" She purred lightheartedly.

I stared at the curly-haired gossiper blankly.

What was it?

"It's love!" She yelled.

Pavarti yelped.

"What?! No no no no…" She stuttered, face aflame.

The flustered girl started to say something, but I didn't hear. I pushed through the crowd, not knowing if the girls saw me, trying to get out of the suddenly stifling shop.

They were wrong.

I pressed through more groups of students, not even attempting to mutter an apology. My mind was far away as I stumbled outside the shop. I couldn't think straight.

It wasn't love.

I turned to the nearest shop, looking critically at my reflection in its windows.

My face…

It had _that_ look.

"No." I whispered, eyes widening. "No."

I backed away shakily, not noticing the masculine voice behind me.

"No…"

"Gwen?"

I squeaked, turning around.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in front of me.

I opened my mouth and closed it for a second, trying to form a sentence.

"Uh…"

Hermione looked at me a bit critically.

"Gwendolyn, are you alright?" She asked, concerned. "Your face is really red."

"I-I…I" I stammered, slowly backing away.

It couldn't be true.

"I'm sorry." I bit out. "I have to go."

Hermione and Harry started to speak, but I was too far gone.

The icy wind tore at my numb figure as I flew through the slippery streets of Hogsmeade. My fingers were red, face burning from the cold.

But I didn't care.

Only one word processed in my mind.

Run.

I needed to run from it all.

It was in this way that I continued to sprint towards Hogwarts as a single thought ran through my head, the thought that sent a very chill to my bones.

It was impossible.

It was idiotic.

It was tragic.

There was no way I could be falling in love with Harry Potter.

* * *

**For the late update. I've been battling a lovely case of writer's block. **

**Oh, and one of you mentioned that Hermione should have been a bit more outraged because of the cruciatus curse that was used last chapter. And you are absolutely right! I'll have to go back and fix that at some point. Sorry about that! **

**Anyway's **

**Next time:**** Terrifying Attachments **


	9. Could it be

I fell to my knees in the middle of the main courtyard, gasping desperately for a breath. The frigid air burned in my lungs and for a moment, I wondered if I was going to die from my stupidity.

Did I really have to run all the way here?

I rolled onto my back, lazily noting that there wasn't another student in sight. No one was present to watch me wallow in my stupidity.

Gingerly, I lifted my gaze to the sky, watching the fluffy pieces of snow drift idly to the ground. It was amazing, breath-taking; almost enough for me to forget about what had upset me to begin with.

Almost.

My mind ran over the last hours desperately, trying to make sense of what had come over me.

Did I really like Harry Potter?

My mind repelled the statement immediately.

The thought was completely daft. It made little sense. After all, I wouldn't be here for too long. Making an attachment like this would be illogical.

So, then why did my reactions, in Lavender Brown's terms, mean that I was somehow in love with Harry?

I mulled over the pieces of evidence I'd used.

'_Whenever I'm near him, my heart speeds up.'_

Why did my heart do that? Why did I become so nervous around the wizard?

Because he's Harry Potter, my mind reasoned.

'_When he smiles, I can feel butterflies in my stomach.'_

Because he's Harry Potter.

'_Whenever he looks my way, I feel so happy.'_

Because he's _Harry Potter_…

My stomach dropped.

"I'm an idiot." I groaned, rolling over, face down in the snow.

I wasn't falling in love. It wasn't anything like that. What I felt had a different name, a far more silly diagnosis.

I was star-struck.

It was so simple now that I thought of it. After all, Harry was a hero to many of my generation. We idolized him, lived off the tales of his years at Hogwarts.

Of course I felt this way.

"Hem, hem."

I immediately straightened into a sitting position, as if jabbed with an electric prod.

Please don't let it be…

"Miss Barrows," Professor Umbridge started sweetly. "What are you doing?"

I swiveled to face my least favorite professor, making no move to get up. The stout witch was watching me with a measured gaze, face flushed from the cold. It was obvious that she didn't want to be outside at all.

But then, why was she here?

She wasn't going to punish me for sitting in the snow now, was she?

Umbridge grew impatient.

"I asked you a question, Miss Barrows." She said, icy tenors hidden in her false, kind tone. "What are you doing out in the snow."

"Sitting." I deadpanned, like the answer was obvious.

The witch's frown deepened.

For a moment, I wondered if she was going to give me a detention. But then, maybe out of pure luck, bundles of yells and screams erupted from within the castle. It appeared that a group of Slytherins and Gryffindors had gotten into a duel.

Umbridge's narrowed gaze immediately snapped to the scuffle, giving me the chance to escape. I stumbled to my feet, nearly sliding into the witch due to the slushy stone beneath me. Latching onto the wall, I shuffled away from them all, bursting into the hall.

A bubble of laughter slipped through my lips as I walked further and further away from my least favorite teacher.

But as soon as the giddy feeling came, it was swept away in a matter of seconds.

What kind of person could fool themselves into believing that they were falling in love with someone they'd barely spoken to?

I mulled this over in my brain as I wandered around the castle, heading towards the common room.

Did that make me vain?

Did that make me strange?

I shook my head, quickly making my way into the Gryffindor Tower.

Heat flooded the room, enveloping me with layer and layer of warmth. I shivered in delight as I made my way towards a squashy armchair perched right in front of the roaring fireplace. I'd been in the snow for far too long, it seemed.

I could hear the low murmur of chattering around me, feel the gazes of others flickering in my direction every so often.

The searing heat from the flames suddenly felt cold.

I didn't think that I'd ever get used to the attention of others.

I burrowed deeper into the chair, drawing my knees to my chest as if it would somehow make me invisible. But, my body made no further move to escape the peering gazes, choosing to stare ahead at the flames flickering before me.

They'd leave eventually.

I enjoyed the attention at first. It had been something I'd craved for years. When people's eyes flickered in my direction when I entered a room, a small burst of pleasure would fill me. It was an amazing feeling, the knowledge that others acknowledged me as an actual person and not a mere shadow. It made me feel so strange, so _alive_.

But it wasn't just that. People actually talked to me like I was familiar. When Hermione asked me for my opinion on the Ancient Runes homework assigned earlier that day, when Harry greeted me in the corridors using the botched version of my name, or even when Ron merely acknowledged my presence with a jerk of the head… I loved it all.

And it was slowly beginning to terrify me.

I wanted to stay in this broken world where people could see me.

Honestly, it was a sad wish. Because eventually, I'd have to leave.

And the return would break me.

I wanted to avoid making bonds with the other students, bonds that inevitably would be severed at any moment. I wasn't supposed to get attached.

But I had failed miserably.

I remembered what Dumbledore had said all those weeks ago.

'_Creating bonds is not a weakness.'_

But, the pain in my chest at the thought of returning now told me another story.

The only consolation in the situation was that Dumbledore wouldn't be able to acquire a Time-Turner for some time, not until the ministry regained faith in him. And a quick look in the Daily Prophet proved that date to be no time soon. There would be no way to get it then, unless…

I could break into the ministry.

A derisive laugh silently slipped through my lips at the thought. The idea was preposterous. I shook the thought out of my head and continued to stare at the twisting embers. Time travel hadn't made me _that_ idiotic.

Of course, there was also the other option.

I didn't have to leave.

My mind ran over the possibility, interrupted by a flurry of familiar voices.

I stiffened.

"Honestly Ronald!" Hermione fumed. "Ginny has the right to date whoever she wishes."

I didn't bother to move from my position as the argument continued with Ron's heated rebuttal. This was their conversation, not mine. I had no part in it.

I had no part in anything here, technically.

Ron spluttered back angrily at another of Hermione's observations. I tried to sink into myself, staring at the orange hues in front of me. They were dancing freely though the hearth, moving in an almost musical rhythm. They twisted and twirled, spun and swirled. Hermione and Ron's quarrel continued.

"Fine! Why do I even bother?!"

The yelling made the flames move erratically as it kept in beat with their venomous tones. They moved swifter, harsher.

It was frightening.

With an exasperated exhale of breath, Hermione stomped off.

With each step, the flames stuttered, marching in beat with the fuming witch.

Ron appeared to stomp off as well, as the marching beat contradicted against the previous marching, creating utter chaos in the flames. The violently contradicting patterns hurt my head. My eyes squeezed shut and I heard only the grunting sounds of an angry Ron Weasley until an all too familiar voice called up to Ron's retreating figure.

I didn't belong here.

I didn't belong anywhere.

Memories flashed through my mind.

_The darkness was suffocating. I didn't know how long I'd been in my room… my cell. Times mashed together until everything felt the same. And slowly, I was beginning to forget._

_What did the sun feel like again?_

I'd never truly belong anywhere.

_What did Mrs. Stoke's voice sound like?_

I would always be alone.

_What was my name again?_

I was nothing but a shadow.

_Who am I?_

"Gwen?"

I jerked out of my reverie, eyes instantly flitting to the source.

My eyes met a brilliant emerald color.

Harry.

"Yes?" I whispered faintly.

Harry Potter stood beside my chair, hands in pocket. He still had that light-hearted look from earlier on his face.

It brought a small smile to my face.

"You looked like a ghost last time I saw you." Harry stated simply as he sat down on the floor next to my armchair, leaning against its right arm. I couldn't help but notice that he was bathed in a flood of orange hue from the fire.

It was fascinating.

"You looked downright terrified." He continued, eyes flickering to my face every second or so.

I peered over at the boy, keeping my mouth shut.

How could I explain?

"I…" I started, turning my gaze to the fire. "I don't know how to deal with all of this."

"All of what?" He questioned.

I sighed.

"Getting attached to people." I murmured. "I told you I was fine before and I thought it was too. But it's all getting so real. I guess I'm getting a bit afraid."

An indiscernible look passed over Harry's face.

"Was it because of Hermione's idea?" He asked.

I shook my head stubbornly, thinking of the brilliance Dumbledore's Army was.

"No. It's been on my mind for a while, I guess."

I smiled ruefully.

And we sat in silence.

"You won't be gone forever." Harry said suddenly.

I blinked.

"What?"

"Just because you're sick, doesn't mean you'll never see any of us again." He persisted.

I shook my head.

"No, I'll be somewhere no one can see me." I tried. "I won't-"

Harry cut me off almost instantly.

"We'll come visit you." He stated, like it was no big deal.

And I suppose in the context of me being hospitalized, it really wasn't a big deal. But it'd be impossible in reality. Unless…

"Promise me something." I stated, turning to face the wizard.

Harry looked at me dubiously.

"Don't visit me."

He raised a brow. There was skepticism along with a twinge of… was that hurt?

"No, no, no!" I amended, blushing furiously. "I meant, I don't want you to visit right away! I want you to wait for a bit."

A befuddled look was apparent in the wizards face.

"What do you mean wait?"

I didn't hesitate.

"Wait to visit me until your first grandson is in his fifth year of Hogwarts, just like us."

Harry looked incredulous.

"Why that long?" He asked.

I shrugged, smiling lightly.

"Everyone will have lots of stories to tell me by that time."

Harry only sat back, looking back to the fire.

"A grandson…" he murmured. "I can't even imagine it. Not with…"

We fell into silence.

"I can." I muttered, thinking of Aiden.

Harry glanced up at me.

"What?"

I coughed.

"Nothing." I managed, turning to the fire once more.

And there we stayed, talking about one thing or the other into the night until finally sleep began to overtake us.

"Harry…" I mumbled sleepily, curled up in the large arm chair. "I don't think I know you."

The Boy-Who-Lived gave a questioning grunt from his new spot on the opposite armchair.

"I've heard about the boy-who-lived… all my life. But never about… just Harry. I want to know Harry… not…"

I sighed, unable to go on.

I peered to the corner, noting that the wizard had fallen asleep, glasses slipping from the bridge of his nose.

It was awfully tempting to push them back up on his face, but instead, I gave into sleep's enticing arms, falling into unconsciousness.

…..

Hermione woke the pair in the end.

She'd found them sprawled out on their respective armchairs, sound asleep into the night. After all, as a prefect, it was her job to make sure that there was no one fooling around in the middle of the night. She'd expected a lot of things: the twins and their _experiments_, some rowdy first-years trying to prove their bravery, or some fool-hardy seventh-years who thought they were above the rules. But, the sight before her was the last thing she'd ever thought of; her best friend and the future student dozing off.

She was extra gentle waking them both, considerably nicer than she'd be to others. It was amusing to her after all, watching the fatigued pair blink for a moment until they realized where they were. And then, during their attempts to return to their respective dormitories, it took all the self-control Hermione held to not laugh outright as Harry ran dead straight into one of the small chess tables that littered the room. But, she kept silent, kindly guiding the sleepy students towards the right staircases.

It was an odd sight to see, to say the least.

Ever since Cedric's death, she'd rarely seen the boy relax for more than a second. But here he was, languidly trying to make his way to his dormitory, shoulders relaxed and stride loose. It reminded her of the old Harry, the Harry that didn't have to watch his friend die in front of him.

But what was the cause? Was it Gwendolyn?

Hermione shook her head.

She supposed that it wasn't any of her business to what had changed. But still…

She decided that she'd at least invite Gwendolyn to eat breakfast with them tomorrow. That way she could see for herself whether she was right or not. Besides, from the many times she'd seen Gwendolyn at meals, she appeared to be uncomfortable with all the stares the other students were giving her nowadays. Maybe she'd enjoy company.

And judging from the way her eyes lit up the next morning, Hermione felt she was correct.

* * *

**Sorry for the late update! I'm back to college and finally got a job. So what does that mean? I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO TIME! So, I've resorted to writing in between classes. Meh... on the bright side, this marks the end of the the first version I'd written of the story. I'm free to go forward with no regrets! DFTBA everyone! (Yeah... I've recently suscribed to Vlogbrothers... I REGRET NOTHING!)**


	10. Distractions

Rain poured from the sky soaking everything to its core, including me. I gruffly pushed my sodden hair away from my face, trying to find my way through the hazy grounds of Hogwarts. Care of Magical Creatures was due to start in a minute; that is if a lesson would even be possible in this downpour. It seemed that the snow from weeks ago was only a farce. The rain had relentlessly washed it away. My waterlogged cloths clung to me tightly, almost like a second skin. But I brushed it off, focusing on my trek.

Normally, the fact that my figure was shown would have been a cause for concern. Because of my… treatment at the orphanage, I never held a healthy appearance. But these past few weeks had been kind to me. A small grin played on my lips at the thought. I could finally eat normally again, and it was definitely showing.

And it definitely helped that I wasn't eating alone anymore.

My ribs were already less prominent than they were when I arrived in this time. My skin seemed less sallow as well while my eyes regained some of its sparkle. I looked near normal. Sighing, I looked to the sky, glad that this had changed. Lavender Brown had been beginning to speculate that I was anorexic. She and her friend Pavarti seemed to speculate this for a week before they actually decided to watch me during my meals. The idea that I had an eating disorder of any sort was soon discarded after this.

To say the least, I enjoyed eating until I was full, as it wasn't a common occurrence in my life. Hermione often commented that my eyes lit up when I started eating, something I understood immediately. I loved to eat like everyone else. Food was amazing. And when I voiced this thought, a reverent nod from Ron dissolved our meal into peals of laughter.

Hermione had been a strange occurrence in my life. She'd taken to accompanying me to breakfast whenever the boys were at quidditch practice and even sitting next to me in some of our classes. I found her presence enjoyable and it often made me wonder if I finally had a friend.

A small voice seemed to sneer in my head, asking why someone as important as her would ever want me as a friend.

I sighed, brushing the thoughts away. I considered Hermione my friend, and that was that. I finally had someone to talk to when something bothered me, or I was feeling lonely. The thought itself was enough to keep me content.

Even in this pouring rain…

That peace however, was disrupted within seconds when I found myself tripping over a stray root. I pitched forward, face twisting in horror as I landed in a rather large puddle with an almighty splash. I spluttered out the dirty water, glaring at the overcast sky.

"What was the point of that?" I growled, blinking away the raindrops that landed in my eyes.

I was answered with a chuckle.

I sloshed to my feet, turning to see an amused Harry Potter eying my soaked figure with light amusement.

"Don't say anything." I mumbled, feeling a blush slowly creep its way to my face.

It had been easier to talk to Harry with Hermione's random appearances. It was almost normal to speak to the great Harry Potter now, as weird as it sounded.

Harry tried his best to stifle his laughter, causing me to send a half-hearted glare at him before starting off towards Care of Magical Creatures.

Harry immediately followed.

"Hey Gwen?" He called.

I still continued forward.

"What?" I murmured, resolutely keeping my gaze forward as I sulked.

"You know that Care of Magical Creatures is cancelled today, right?"

I screeched to a stop.

What?

"You have got to be kidding me." I whispered in my always soft voice.

Harry smiled, mouth quivering in an attempt not to laugh as we headed back to the castle.

"Anything else I should know?" I asked tiredly, noticing that the rain was beginning to lighten up.

Harry thought for a moment before some recognition flickered in his face.

"Oh, right." He started a bit awkwardly. "We have a… er, meeting tonight. We finally found a place."

…..

I stood outside the Room of Requirement, watching in awe as a door materialized before me. I brushed my hand hesitantly against the door, wondering if it was only a hallucination.

But it was real.

I hesitantly pulled on one of the double-doors handles. It opened with a whining creak, letting out a low murmur of the people that had already arrived. I stepped into the atmosphere, looking around at all the gathered students with a small smile.

It was hard to believe I was actually standing in history.

Vaguely, I wondered if the students in the future read about a simple, blond-haired transfer student joining the group as well. I hadn't read any of it. In fact, I hadn't read much of this era other than Umbridge's rise to power and subsequent fall. Only the random stories I overheard Aiden Potter telling his friends filled up my lack of knowledge over this time period. I didn't have the luxury of hearing the stories from my grandparents like the other kids.

Silently, I slipped my hand in my pocket, where the Polaroid photo of my family still rested. I wondered what they would have thought of my impossible adventure…

I shook my head at the thought and continued forward.

The room was amazing. It was lined with a combination of mirrors and bookshelves filled with defense books. I stepped closer, eyeing a cluttered pile of junk by the variety of sneak-a-scopes lying on a nearby table.

I reached out to pick out a copy of _Self-Defensive Spellwork_ when I felt a presence approach me from behind.

With my hand still on the book, I turned my head to see a smiling Hermione.

"Hello." I grinned pleasantly.

Hermione nodded, letting out a breathy laugh.

"This is amazing, isn't it?"

I nodded vigorously, letting the book go as I turned to face the witch.

"I still find it hard to believe that this is all happening." I stated, looking softly at the surrounding students. "This will be legendary in years, you know. We'll all be known as the students willing to defy that horrid toad. And the fact that I'm here, in the middle of it…"

I looked at Hermione firmly.

"I'm proud that I can be a part of this."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"You talk like she's going to take over the school."

I froze, letting a weak smile slip across my lips.

"Let's hope not." I joked feebly. "Otherwise Harry will probably end up in detention every other week."

Hermione nodded darkly.

"He already does that." She grumbled, looking towards the black-haired boy starting to gather everyone's attention.

Harry looked a bit nervous, but that was to be expected. The thought of me standing up in front of everyone, trying to teach them all I knew made me downright nauseous. Inwardly, I cheered Harry on.

We started practice immediately with a disarming spell. I found myself paired with a nervous-looking Neville Longbottom.

We took turns at disarming, but shifted to merely aiding him as I was already proficient with the spell. Everyone in my time knew how to do a disarming spell by their first year. After all, it was our hero's trademark offensive move.

It was probably halfway through the meeting when I found myself hearing the grumblings of one Zacharias Smith. I had been retrieving my wand from the other side of the room after one of Neville's successful spells.

The Hufflepuff had been groaning away at the mediocrity of the task Harry assigned us, saying that he could do it with his eyes closed.

I returned to Neville with a thoughtful face.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

I waved of the question as my mind began to formulate a possible plan.

I really didn't like the Hufflepuff.

It only took another second for the plan to completely solidify in my mind.

My eyes widened.

"Brilliant…" I muttered.

Neville opened his mouth to question what I was thinking. But, I cut him off, indicating to Zacharias Smith.

I took aim at the Hufflepuff, waiting until he prepared to send a disarming curse of his own to strike.

His wand instantly flew from his fingers.

I spun to face Neville who had a look of incredulity on his face which slowly turned to a hesitant smile. It appeared as if we were talking.

Zacharias looked down at his newly-retrieved wand curiously and prepared to give the spell another go.

I whipped my wand with precision, disarming him once again.

I bit my bottom lip to stifle the laughter threatening to bubble up.

It was then that I realized that two familiar gingers were staring at me.

Fred and George Weasley stood a few feet off, nodding in appraisal for my little act. It was apparent from the beginning of the meeting that the Hufflepuff clearly rubbed them the wrong way. And from the look of their twitching fingers, it was obvious that they were raring to aid me with my prank.

Giving them a small nod, I turned away, letting them continue.

"Let's continue." I told Neville airily.

The round-faced boy nodded hesitantly.

I smiled, as we continued to practice, nearly stumbling at a certain realization. I was basically tutoring my future teacher.

For a moment, I wondered if he remembered me in the future.

It would make sense. He was pretty kind to me, after all.

My smile grew bigger at the thought.

However, it was wiped away the second I saw Harry approaching the twins, who were still pranking the Hufflepuff.

I signaled for Neville to take a break. He immediately caught on as he followed my gaze, spotting Harry and the twins.

"Sorry Harry…" Fred mumbled.

"Even if it was the quiet one's idea…" George finished airily, staring at me with a small smirk.

I flushed, spinning around to face a very-amused Neville.

"So… er…" I spluttered. "You like Herbology, yeah?"

Neville opened his mouth to answer when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

Someone was standing right behind me.

Neville smiled.

"Hi Harry!" He greeted chirpily, looking far too happy with the situation.

My hearth thudded loudly in my ears, as I turned, glancing up at the boy who lived. I mustered up the best face of innocence I could manage.

Had Harry always been that tall? It was normally adorable, but in that instant, I couldn't help but quiver from nervousness.

Harry snorted.

A look of amusement flitted across his face as he glanced between me and Zacharias My face couldn't get any redder.

"H-hello Harry." I stuttered.

Harry let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

"Hi Gwen." He returned, turning to help the others once more.

I let out a sigh of relief until I realized where he was heading.

Cho Chang.

All the color drained from my face as my lips twisted into a frown. There was that face again. The face he made whenever he looked at….

My mind screeched to a halt.

"It doesn't even matter." I muttered.

"What was that?"

I flinched, forgetting that Neville was right beside me.

"Nothing!" I managed, turning to him with a limp smile. "Let's practice again!"

My hand tightened around my wand as Neville turned to face me.

Harry was smiling again.

Neville raised his wand.

Cho was smiling shyly back.

"Expelliarmus"

I nearly jumped when my wand flew from my hand. I was far too distracted.

"Nice job Neville!" I told him, smiling that same smile.

Neville frowned.

"Are you alright?" He asked, brows drawn together.

A genuine smile surfaced at his concern.

"No worries." I amended, snatching up my wand almost instantly. "I'm fine. Let's go again. You're really getting the hang of it now."

Neville nodded, raising his wand once more.

But I was ready this time, focusing on my opponent. And even when I succeeded in dasarming him first, my gaze stayed locked forward.

Now was not the time for distractions.


	11. It's Okay

**Seeing as this hasn't been updated for nearly a year, let's just say it was a bit difficult trying to write Gwen again. I decided to deal with the more negative feelings she's been holding onto since the beginning of the story. She's been internalizing this whole experience, so yes this may seem like she's being out of character. But at some point she was going to have to burst. And with someone who's been isolated for so long, it's been a long time coming. **

* * *

_Crucio._

_I writhed on the stony tiles, feeling my fingers scratch helplessly against the courtyard floors. My jaw was tensed as grunts sounded from my throat. My eyes were wide open, and all I could see were their smug faces . _

"_Mudblood." They jeered, sending cruciatus curse after curse at my body. _

_It was unbearable. _

"_Kill me!" I pleaded, back arching against the ground as it another wave of pain flooded my system. _

_I was burning…_

"_Please…" _

_The head of crowd of Slytherins watched me with his dark eyes, head tilting to the side as if considering my request. I watched numbly as I continued to convulse. His fingers elongated, skin paling. The spidery fingers lifted the wand towards me once more. His nose was mere slits now, eyes a dangerous red._

"_Please." I whispered once more. _

_The next words were incredible cold, almost emotionless, something that chilled me to my very core. _

"_Avada Kedavra." _

…

I jerked up from my seat, trying to catch my breath. My heart thudded in my ears, pulse racing. It had felt so real…

Like I was actually about to die…

I glanced around me, noting some curious stares from around me. Immediately, I hung my head. My face flushed with the reality of what had happened. Professor Binns droned on from the front of the class.

I'd fallen asleep during the lesson, apparently having a nightmare in that short amount of time.

Merlin, I hoped I didn't sleep-talk.

I attempted to focus on the lesson, shoving my embarrassment aside. But adrenaline pumped through my system. My jaw was clenched, shoulders tensed. The grip on my quill became tighter and tighter every second.

'Breathe,' I told myself. 'Breathing is good.'

Had the room always been this stifling?

Without a second thought, I was speeding into the corridor.

I needed to breathe.

My feet carried me away from the blasted classroom. I could feel my hands shaking minutely. I could see the face clearly burned into my mind. That hatred… the pure and utter emptiness in his eyes, it wasn't difficult to discern who'd been the one to utter the curse.

My feet slapped against the stone as I ran faster and faster, feeling a steady pounding against my head.

Voldemort.

"_Stupefy._"

A red flash sped passed my head, missing by centimeters.

My reaction was quick, body coming to a halt and arm whipping out my wand, spell slipping from my lips.

"_Expelliarmus_."

I spun to face my attacker, blood roaring in my ears. I didn't bother to catch the wand that flew past me uselessly.

It was one of the boys that attacked me all those weeks ago. But that wasn't what phased me. It was the fact that I'd seen his face only moments before, sneering down at me as I was slowly dying.

I didn't remember stalking forward, hand shaking violently as I pressed my wand into his chest. He was the one who cursed me. He was the one who morphed into that monster.

My breath became increasingly unsteady.

There were no words for the moment. My mind was racing, unable to retain a coherent thought. Threat…

This boy was a threat.

My wand dug into his chest as his hands rose up, mouth opening and closing like a fish. A snarl filled the air, and his eyes locked with mine, revealing a flash of fear.

It took me a moment to notice the snarl was mine.

I tried rein control of myself, stop myself from going any further. He was disarmed, powerless. He wasn't a threat anymore, right?

The Slytherin must've seen the hesitation in my gaze as he instantly pushed my arm away, wrestling the wand from my grip, aiming it right back at me.

_Avada Kedavra. _

Something in me snapped, and before I knew what was happening, I pounced.

I'd seen a fight from my time in the orphanage. It was the only wandless fight I ever witnessed. One minute, as I watched from my window, two children seemed to be arguing. The next, they were rolling on the ground, the matron struggling to break them apart.

The boy landed against the tile, me on top. We struggled against each other. I clawed at the boy as he wrenched my hair, knocking my head into the ground. Black spots erupted into my vision. And before I knew it, he towered over me, landing a square hit to my face.

My vision was blurry and before I knew it, tears were slipping down my face.

It hurt.

Why did everything hurt?

With a hysterical shriek, I swung, feeling my fist impact against his squashy nose. Blood sprayed my face as the boy howled. My stomach twisted, but the anger, the fear pumping through my veins didn't slow.

I couldn't stop.

His hands fumbled to his face, backing away slightly. I used the distraction, pushing to side, straddling him as I landed hit after hit on his face.

One.

Umbridge's face stared at me in my mind, eyes narrowed and suspicious. I could see the cruelty hidden beneath her sugary smile… the bigotry…

Two.

Voldemort's eyes bore into my own. He regarded me with cool measure. He could take me down instantly if he wanted. Anyone knew that.

Three.

The ugly face of Callum Goyle stared back with a jeering smile as if proud of what he'd done. He'd sent me away. He'd brought me to a time filled with so much pain...

"Gwen!"

Four.

Hands found their way to my shoulders, dragging me away from the stirring boy beneath me. I panicked, doing whatever I could to get away from my next opponent. My breathing was quick, barely able to get a breath in as he dragged me farther and farther down the corridor.

"Gwen. You need to calm down."

I was crying again, kicking out when the person suddenly spun me around, forcing me to meet his powerful gaze.

Emerald.

I stiffened, staring at the boy in front of me. My hands moved without thought, raising to touch his face as if to make sure he was real. But, the color red caught my eye. I blinked, gazing down at my shaking pale hands littered with cuts. Blood was smeared on the knuckles. And almost instantly, it didn't take long to figure out that it wasn't mine.

"Gwen?" Harry spoke carefully.

His hands didn't let go of my shoulders.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What could I say?

I realised that Harry was kneeling in front of me, and with a shaky breath, I got to my feet. I stumbled to the side, only managing to catch myself against the wall. A small groan caught my attention.

Further down the hallway the Slytherin boy managed to get to his feet. He watched me with fear and caution as if I was a wild animal.

But, looking down at the blood smeared on my hands, maybe I was.

The moment I looked away, the boy fled down the corridor.

My breath hitched as my hands grasped my hair tightly. What was wrong with me?! I was being too emotional. I was too unbalanced.

It took me a moment to realize I wasn't alone.

I flinched at the blank stare Harry was giving me. It was thoughtful, yet grim. It was like he didn't know what to think yet.

"I didn't…" I tried to speak. "I don't…"

But I didn't know what to do, what to say.

Would he think I was a monster.

Slowly, I stepped away from him, eyes wide with fear. He was going to hate me wasn't he? Hermione and Ron would her her too.

The bloody face of the Slytherin boy flashed through my mind.

I was a monster.

"Gwen. It's alright." Harry finally said, taking a step forward, causing me to flinch.

I roughly shook my head, glancing to the side, looking for any sort of an exit. But my shaking legs weren't moving anymore.

"I don't know what happened." I whispered, feeling the tears slip down my cheeks. "I don't understand."

Harry stared at me, looking out of his depth.

The look he was giving me filled me with guilt. The confusion was gone, replaced with compassion. I turned towards the wall, leaning my forehead against the cool stone.

"Did make the first move?" Harry asked.

I managed a nod after few seconds.

Harry stepped towards me pulling me from the wall. The fifteen-year old glanced down at my hands, placing his hands on my shoulders. His emerald gaze bore into mine.

"It's okay."

And that's all it took. It was okay.

My arms slipped around his skinny frame, burying my face into his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to." I whispered over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

And there we stood for what felt like a lifetime, me whispering my apologies repeatedly while Harry awkwardly patted my back, replying with the same phrase every time.

"It's okay."

* * *

**Well, I've got no excuse. I'm not going to try to make one. But I really do appreciate all of you that've supported me. Honestly, it's you guys that help me continue this story. **


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